


I Need Healing

by Droneshard



Category: Judge Dredd - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domesticated boys, Everyone's friends and no one can fucking stop me, Hux is just doing his best, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Millie is the star of the show, Overwatch AU, PTSD, Sexual Content, The gamer au no one asked for, Trust me I know nothing about Esports, bullshitting my way through this, legal shit I know 0 about, mention of physical/mental abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-16 09:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Droneshard/pseuds/Droneshard
Summary: Techie's life will never be easy. From his past nipping at his heels, a stumbling attempt at online romance, to an Esports tournament that has him way over his head - he's wishing he had picked up a couple extra lives on the way. But all is fair in love and Overwatch, right?





	1. I Have Spotted The Enemy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [multipurposetoolguy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/multipurposetoolguy/gifts).



> AKA the Overwatch AU that no one asked for.
> 
> Thank you so much to [multi-purpose-tool-guy](http://multi-purpose-tool-guy.tumblr.com/) who practically shoved me onto this roller coaster the moment I mentioned the first dredges of its existence. You're the best and I don't deserve you <3
> 
> -Tags/Rating will be updated as the chapters progress, trigger warnings will always be posted in the beginning notes.
> 
> **TW: Mention of past physical and mental abuse from parental figure**

 

 

_Status:  Single_

_Age:  24_

_Gender:  Male_

_Seeking: Male_

_About Me:_

The cursor blinks insistently in the blank text box. This had always been the trickiest part – writing down a minimum of 30 or a maximum of 500 words into a tiny box created to ‘ _describe yourself_.’ Techie chews thoughtfully at the end of his pen, deciding to skip this section for the time being.  He’ll end up putting something vague that matches the demanded 30 words minimum and slapping up the purely aesthetic based profile picture he’d been using the last three years that only showed a sliver of his face through his ginger hair.

The rest of the requirements took only another five minutes to fill out before he hit ‘submit’ at the bottom of the page. Watching the browser kick back to life and with agonizing slowness, loaded what would now be his dating profile.

He already had a little red ‘ **1** ’ hovering over the mail icon.

**_‘Congratulations! Find your match –’_ **

The automated message had a link leading to the ‘match’ portion of the website. He clicked it, opening to a screen where users could select ‘yes’, ‘no’, or ‘maybe’ with as little information as another user’s profile picture and a flirty tag line. Techie knew what he’d find here; a plethora of shirtless men with the tag ‘save a horse ride a cowboy.’ This wasn’t anything _new_ to him. Wasn’t like this was the first time he’d tried online dating. More like a phase than anything – he’d get bored of it within a month and delete his account like he always did.

Still, as always, he found himself clicking through each profile at face value. There was a kind of euphoric little tug in his stomach. Maybe this time would be the last.

From the other side of the room the PS4 sends a trill. Swiveling in his chair Techie rolls his eyes as a barrage of game invites began to pile up in a near slate of notifications. He glances over at the clock on the far wall and scrubs a hand through his dirty hair. Any intent on showering and making something real to eat is lost as he slams his laptop shut and rolls across the hardwood floor to the other side of the room.

He pulls a mountain dew from the mini fridge at his feet as the game invitation loads. The Overwatch theme music plays briefly over the TV’s speakers before he plugs his headphones into the controller. Glancing over to the closed front door where he knows his brother will come striding in within the hour. He’ll get scolded for leaving the salad from last night tucked behind the milk jug at the back of the fridge and the empty pizza pops box is still laying on top of the counter. Really he should be taking better care of himself.

The mic connects to team chat automatically and Techie immediately has to shove the headphones from his ears. As always a barrage of metal is blasting from his headset. “Turn down your music or I’m logging off,” He holds the mic to his lips, scowling at the distorted laugh on the other side of the music. But the music decreases in volume and he tugs the oversized headphones back over his ears. “I hate it when you do that.”

 **Vader6969** ’s laugh is deep and _loud_. Techie can practically hear the shit eating grin in it. He also knows his name is Matt from how often his roommate yells at him to keep the noise to a minimum.

Techie had a great number of reasons why he _should_ have hated Matt. The other man was loud, crude, and violent to name a few. He had a mic but it would cut in and out with background feedback the entire time. When Matt wasn’t yelling curses he was either singing some half-assed out of tune 80’s hair metal or cackling about whichever meme he was currently fixated on for the day. It would be fine if Techie could just mute the idiot but he insisted on playing competitive – a game mode where communication and team work were key.

Despite how the other man annoyed him to no ends – Matt was good, really good. He was a valuable asset to any team. Even if he insisted the team should be built around whichever character he was currently hogging (Genji this season). Yes, he did fuck off most of the game; ignoring anyone’s requests to group up in favor of trolling the other team. It was infuriating at the best of times. Techie should really quit playing with him but their win to lose ratio was too good for Techie to kick him to the curb.

Plus it had been months of this, almost a year now. He’d come to find Matt’s personality... endearing. He’d always find some way to make Techie laugh and had once made him snort mountain dew out of his nose from laughing so hard. In turn Matt had begun to listen to Techie more intently, asking him questions and remembering things from weeks back. He couldn’t remember the last time someone other than Hux had remembered his birthday.

“Quick play or competitive?” Matt asks instead of offering an apology. His music is still playing just a hair too loud in the background but Techie has learned to tune it out at this point.

 “You pick, I have to be off in an hour though,” he reaches for a little copper wire figurine on the side table and begins to twist it into another shape. From the top of the couch his brother’s cat Millicent is watching him with her tail flicking in the air. He clicks his tongue, rubbing his fingers together and she stretches out her legs before hoping off of the couch and rubbing herself against his pant leg. Ginger fur sticking to the black sweatpants like a magnet. After a moment she hops up onto the chair and curls herself into his lap, purring contently.

Matt whines at the time restriction, “only an hour? I thought you didn’t have to work tonight.”

“I’ll be back on around eight,” Techie mumbles stroking a hand through Millicent’s fur. He does work tonight but it’s easy enough to multitask. “We could play StarCraft or something?”

The crackling huff against the mic lets him know Matt is displeased with this idea. “Yeah, alright, that works. But Nationals are coming up.”

Like Techie doesn’t _know_ how close they are to Nationals. Like he hasn’t been obsessively checking his inbox the past two weeks to see if he’d made the cut this year. Matt supposedly had last year with how often he boasts about it. As long as they continue to play together in competitive there’s a chance they both might make the cut this year. The thought stirs butterflies in his stomach.

“Just pick something.”

They’re queued up at the flick of a button. Immediately entered into a skirmish where the two spam dance emotes at one another (Matt as Pharah and Techie predictably as Mercy) and Matt tells Techie about his day and how his roommate is out of town to see his snot of a boyfriend who lives on the other side of the country. There’s five minutes of this and of Matt’s complaining until they’re entered into game and all Techie can get out of Matt is cursing until they win and he’s back to asking Techie how his day was while waiting for the next game to load.

It’s normal between them, comfortable. A daily routine Techie looks forward to day in and day out. He knows Hux isn’t crazy about him talking to weird guys online but Hux isn’t about to harass him when he’s aware how little Techie gets out to socialize. Even joining the dating site, like Hux briefly suggested in passing; is far out of his comfort zone and he doubts he’ll actually go meet anyone he matches with.

 

During their fifth game of the evening Hux arrives home. Millicent squirms out of Techie’s lap to greet him at the door; ominous almost when she sits there a handful of minutes before the door opens.

Hux greets her with coos of affection that, if he knew Techie could hear him from the living room, he would deny.  He makes it to the kitchen with Millicent tucked against his chest before his phone starts ringing. It might as well be built into his hand for how often he’s on it.

“Can you not go five minutes without me?” From the corner of his eye he can see that Hux is trying to rein in a smile. He moves into the bedroom out of earshot and Techie’s focus returns to Matt who has been spewing profanity about how the Mei on the enemy team clearly has it out for him.

Ten minutes later Hux emerges from the bedroom sans tie and vest, top two buttons of his shirt undone.

"Techie," Hux stands off to the side behind his chair, phone still pressed to his ear. A deep voice is speaking on the other end but Hux isn't paying them any mind. Had Matt not been already squawking in Techie’s ears he'd have thought the voice was the very same. "Pause that thing and look at me," the level of calm his brother is using is almost shrill.  
  
"Armie you know I can't pause - it's an online game." Techie repeats this at least once a week.  
  
Hux sighs, snapping a sharp, "Ren shut up for a moment," before looking over Techie worriedly. "Have you eaten today?" Techie nods in response and Hux's eyes narrow to slits. "Have you eaten something besides pizza pops?"  
  
"No..." Techie shrinks in his chair, doing his best to focus equally on the game and his brother.  
  
Expecting this answer, Hux lightly ruffles Techie’s greasy hair and moves towards the kitchen. "I'll make you something before I go out, I'll be home late tonight." As if Techie expects otherwise. He'll still be huddled in Hux's bed waiting for him to come home and Hux will turn pitying eyes over him knowing this behavior should not be lasting as long as it has. But Hux will continue to indulge him. Hux loves him; it's not hard to see.   
  
"Yes Ren, I'm still here quit your whining," Hux mutters and Techie pulls his headphones back over his ears. Matt has continued to talk despite Techie’s silence; as always. 

In the short few moments of their conversation Matt has spammed for healing more than a dozen times. Techie fights back the urge to yell at him. Instead he takes a deep breath and scrubs a fist against one puffy eye. He really needs to get his glasses fixed; these contacts are irritating his already over sensitive eyes.

Matt is clearly talking to someone else in the room when he tunes back in. “That’d be cool though wouldn’t it? I mean if we got it then you could stay with me during finals. If you wanted to I mean –“

“Matt stop spamming I’m on the other end of the map,” Techie cuts in and Matt falls silent for a moment. It’s out of character for Matt to become so quiet. The bubble of anxiety begins to grow in his chest. He hurries to rectify the mistake, “sorry, I was talking to my brother; try not to let Zarya focus you, I’ll be right there.”

“As if she could – shit!” Matt growls and the upper right hand corner informs Techie that the Zarya has in fact focused him and he’s waiting for respawn.

Techie bites his bottom lip to keep it from pulling out into a grin. He quickly hurries to the rest of his team that has contested at the point and are all scurrying away from a Pharah preparing to ult. With the help of a Junkrat they take her out of the sky moments after her ult goes off. Matt reappears beneath her doing a dance emote that narrowly gets him taken out by the enemy team’s Reaper; Techie can’t help but smile at the barrage of curses.

They play a couple of games before Hux is calling Techie over for dinner. He bids Matt goodbye for now, the other man making him promise to be on skype later.

To no surprise Hux still has his phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he’s dishing out yesterday’s leftover salad onto a plate. He gives Techie the signal for two more minutes as he places a steak on each plate and motions for Techie to take it over to the kitchen island.

“No, that won’t do at all – I asked for that to be done weeks ago, Ren,” Hux huffs and pushes a stray piece of hair back into the slick swath of hair plastered to the top of his head. “Absolutely not! The situation is dire; I’ve already told you that. There is no way I’m going to allow that woman even an inch when she’ll take a mile. I don’t care what her lawyer says; you’re going to fight this to the skin of your teeth.”

Techie tries not to stare at Hux over the counter. He’s been overworking himself lately; barely sleeping, on the phone ungodly late, sneaking drinks when he thinks Techie isn’t looking. Hux tells him it’s a business merger that’s going array. But what sort of successful architectural firm needs to merge with another company? It doesn’t match up and Techie _knows_ Hux is lying to him about it. Yet he loves his brother too much to push any farther than the occasional innocent inquiry. He also knows Hux has taken to going out late at night under every guise under the sun.

Millicent jumps up on the counter next to Techie’s plate, sniffing at the greens that she’s unlikely to try and snatch. Hux glares at her from the other end of the kitchen but says nothing, listening to whatever Ren is currently arguing. Techie pushes a little white paw away from his steak and shovels another forkful of slightly wilted salad into his mouth.

Whoever this Ren is Hux has been talking to him an awful lot lately. Hux has mentioned he was the lawyer that took up his case and Techie hasn’t wanted to ask anything else since. The less he knows the better. He can formulate enough from Hux’s side of the conversation anyway.

Taking his plate, Hux sits down next to his brother. Batting away a tail as it nearly lands in his food; he watches his spoiled cat with a hint of a smile. “Yes, I am aware – look I’m about to eat with my brother, we can talk about this later.” Hux gives Techie an apologetic half smile. Techie reaches over and squeezes Hux’s forearm gently before digging into his steak. “Yes… Yes… I’ll be there, you know I will. Mm, yes I know that as well. Kylo I am hanging up, I’ll see you in an hour.”

Hux switches his phone to airplane mode before typing in a brief note and putting it face down on the counter where Millicent promptly flops herself on top of it. “Millie, you shouldn’t be up here,” Hux frowns like he might actually for once pick her up and reprimand her properly but instead un-wedges his knife from beneath her fluffy body and digs into his steak.  

They’re quiet for a while. Both eat in relative silence; only Millie’s loud rumbling purr mixing with the soft hum of the fridge. Hux keeps rubbing at her cheeks with the handle of his knife despite how he would no doubt scold Techie for it. He’s distracted by something tonight. Eyes trained on the back wall and glassy like he’s not all in the moment; Techie gives him a gentle nudge with his elbow.

“Millie is getting a little pudgy, how many treats have you been giving her?” Hux scratches her belly as if to prove his point. She curls in on herself, trapping his finger between her paws and rubbing her cheeks against it.

“She got into the cupboard again this morning, she might be fat but she’s agile.”

Hux smirks at that. “Says the boy that once spent a week trying to feed an obese grasshopper he’d stowed into his sock drawer,” he shares an understanding gaze. “I’m putting her on a diet, Mercy, please don’t indulge her.”

Techie’s cheeks flush and he leans farther forward in his seat. Hux places his hand on Techie’s knee and squeezes lightly before turning back to his food.

After all Hux knows why he’s like this.

“I don’t mean to Armie – it’s just with Mara –“Techie is cut off instantly by Hux slamming his hand against the counter. Millie bolts off the table, taking with her Hux’s phone which clatters to the ground.

There’s a crazed look in Hux’s eye. “Mercy we are not going to talk about her,” Hux turns fully in his seat to face his brother. He reaches out to, almost unwillingly on Techie’s part, hold both of his brother’s hands tightly in his own. “She is never going to touch you again, haven’t I promised you that? I am doing everything in my power to keep that _woman_ away from you. Has she tried to contact you again? Have you seen her?”

Techie shakes his head, starting to feel a bit green. “No, Armie, I swear!” he’s shrinking in his seat with how Hux is frowning at him.

A minute passes and Hux finally seems to relax despite his pursed lips. There’s still pity reflected in his green eyes and Techie feels it like a brand against his skin. He wishes that Hux would stop looking at him and seeing the bruised little boy curled around his brother’s ankles begging and screaming for him to take him with him. Hux still hates himself for not being able to protect him.

Hux stands, gripping the back of Techie’s neck and presses his lips to his temple. In turn Techie wraps both arms around his waist and leans his head into Hux’s chest. “Do you need me to stay home tonight?” Hux mumbles into his hair. Techie shakes his head no. “You’re sure?”

“You have a meeting tonight,” Techie reminds him gently.

Hux shrugs. “I can cancel it if you need me.”

In many ways he does need Hux. These days he can’t seem to sleep without him, can’t remember to eat or shower and he never used to be this way. He was never allowed to be this way. But he’s trying to put that behind him despite the way he still flinches when he hears the floor creak or the sound of the bathroom light clicking on in the middle of the night. These habits are hard to kick even after over five years without needing worry about them. The nightmares are still there and he swears, in the quiet of the night, he can still hear her voice from the other side of his and Hux’s apartment though she’s never stepped foot here. Hux would strangle her before she could.

But the threat is still there; even after he’d legally changed his name from William B. Hux two years ago. She’d still tracked him down, tried to weasel through a loophole in the form of her restraining order with the guise that she hadn’t known due to his new name. Not that she’d call him anything but William. He was Mercy now. He’d chosen the name himself and Hux had gone over the documents with him, pen in hand, lip chewed between his teeth until they were filled and he could fax them to their lawyer. He knew the pure irony in his choice and would continue to wear it like armor.

“Go see your boyfriend,” Techie gives a shy smile as Hux’s brows shoot upwards towards his hairline. A flush rising from Hux’s collar to the tips of his ears; he glares at Techie suspiciously before giving his arm a pinch and fishing out Tupperware to store his half-finished meal in. “You didn’t claim otherwise.”

“Ren is… I’m not sure what he is but keep your nose out of it,” Hux frowned over his shoulder as he shoved the container into the fridge and stepped over Millie to collect his phone off the floor. “Just know I always have your best interest in mind.”

Techie rolls his eyes, clearing the remnants of his plate into the trash. He was pretty sure Hux sleeping with his lawyer wasn’t exactly in Techie’s best interest but he let the statement slide. As far as he knew they’d been dating since Hux’s first year as VP of First Order Enterprises, that was two years ago and still Techie had never seen hide nor hair of the man. Had Hux not stayed up half the night on the phone with Ren most of the week he might doubt his existence.

“I’ll call you if I need you.”

-

Techie has three screens running simultaneously. The first is from his laptop where he is still, after an hour, trying to build a house out of wooden blocks with no help from Matt who seems to delight in luring creepers to explode all his hard work. The second is the call line set up on his iPad for work - not that many people call for technical assistance this late at night. The third is from a special channel on the TV displaying various security footage of the building from different angles.   
  
It's the paranoid part of his brain that keeps the TV set to this instead of the late night cartoons he'd prefer to be watching. It was a safety precaution, one even Hux often employed in the dead of night.   
  
Switching tabs on his iPad he notices an email from the dating site. He clicks on it curiously, the website opening in a new tab to display _one new message_. "I'm getting a drink, don't burn my house down or I'm switching to creative mode," Techie warns Matt as sternly as he can muster while pushing off his headphones and taking the iPad with him to the kitchen. Playing Minecraft with Matt was always a gamble.  
  
Millie follows him, hopping up next to the sink and staring at him expectantly until he turns the tap on to a drizzle for her. She dunks her head directly beneath the stream, tongue lapping out uselessly and he shakes his head as he turns to the fridge.   
  
He clicks on the message while tugging out a bottle of water from the side pocket. Careful not to drop the tablet as he pops the lid of the bottle and drowns down half its’ contents like a dying man.  
  
**Vaderfanboi91** : Ur hotter than the flames on Mustafar ;)  
  
Techie hovers over a reply before tapping "view profile" to see what he's up against.  
  
Tall, blonde, a wall of muscles with thick framed glasses and a kill me softly smile. He bites into his lower lip. Of course his main picture shows him shirtless on some white sand beach holding up a red macaw like some sort of over muscled Steve Irwin.   
  
The other pictures just make the flush spreading over Techie’s cheeks hotter. One is the blonde half submerged in a plane's turbine, grease smearing his cheeks with that goofy grin on his face. While the other few are of him in devilishly good looking (expensive) apparel, dressed to the nines with a darker haired man at his side who could very well be his brother, but the last makes Techie stop and stare.  
  
It's a simple photo, a candid of the blonde with green coveralls tied at his waist and a light grey heather shirt with black block letters reading: I need healing. He's squinting his eyes from the light of the sun and has his head thrown back in a laugh from where he's sitting atop a tree branch, the foliage littering him with patches of light. Techie doesn't think he's seen anything so beautiful in his life.  
  
His tag line reads: _Looking for the Mercy to my Genji._  
  
Techie's mouth pops open then closed. This man is clearly too attractive to be messaging him.  
  
There isn't much else on his profile besides a brief list of interests (sports, video games, travel, star wars) but something about it all is standing out as somehow familiar. He switches back to the message and is at a loss for words entirely. He's bold online, bolder than he's ever been in person and wishes he could respond with something witty. He settles for a, "you're a genji main?" It's lame. He knows it’s lame but he's never been good at this.  
  
**Vaderfanboi91** : u could say that lol. What about u? Something tells me u play Mercy ;))

God, he types as obnoxiously as Matt does; with too many emoji’s and a knack for abbreviating everything. He chances a glance around the corner and nearly spits out his water as he rushes towards the laptop. Managing to coil himself in his headphones in his haste to get them over his ears he starts yelling, “Matt what the hell are you doing! How did you build a portal and shove me through it in under five minutes? I didn’t even know you found diamonds!”

Matt cackles, having built Techie into a cobblestone crypt to keep him safe from an overhead ghast. “You underestimate me,” his voice goes deep and low in a way that makes Techie’s toes curl in his socks. It’s probably meant to be intimidating but the sound furls deep in the pit of Techie’s stomach and he has to cross his legs and start counting how many lego pieces currently crowd the top of his desk.

In retaliation Techie dismantles the portal from the other side.

He glances over to another notification.

 **Vaderfanboi91** : what system do u play on?

 **TheGoodDoctor** : PS4 and CPU mostly and yes I main Mercy :)

Was the smiley face too much? Ugh, he was horrible at this. Maybe he should ask Matt? But they weren’t close like that. Techie wasn’t even sure if he’d mentioned his sexuality in the year they’d been talking and the last thing he wanted was to open that can of worms. There was a chance Matt was homophobic and Techie didn’t think he could handle that disappointment.

There’s a knock at the door. Or at least he’s pretty sure that’s what he heard.

“William?”

He suddenly isn’t sure if he’s even breathing.

“William come open the door.”

Techie takes the headphones from his ears, palms shaking. Staring from across the apartment at the darkened hallway and beyond it to the front door; this wouldn’t be the first time he’s imagined her voice. He waits, afraid to glance at the TV screen across from him to confirm his suspicions. This _has_ to be another episode. She can’t actually be here. Hux had handed him his medication this morning, he remembers almost choking on one of the pills when swigging it back with orange juice.

Sure enough the pounding on the door starts up again. In spite of every instinct telling him not to look he glances over at the security cameras; the bottom left corner is the hallway outside.

She still looks the same. Maratelle hasn’t aged a day since Techie first turned 13. Hair still bleached to an unnatural platinum blonde, nails long and sharp more than likely painted red, heels as tall as Techie is thin. In the black and white of the monitor she could almost be a ghost.

He closes his laptop as quietly as he can, eyes never leaving the doorway. There’s no way she can get in here; _right?_

The ding of his cell phone goes off from the bedroom and he prays she hasn’t heard it. As quietly as he can, he slinks along the edges of the room over to the bedroom, carefully closing the door and locking it behind him. Did he remember to lock the deadbolt? What about the door chain? Hux always locked the handle before he left but what if he forgot this time?

Millie lets out a haughty meow as Techie plops himself on the side of the bed, fighting not to start hyperventilating. His phone goes off again and he stops for a moment, the colour draining from his face in abject horror as he considers the possibility of her getting a hold of his number.

_He has to call Hux._

With sweaty hands he takes his phone off of the nightstand, nearly dropping it when it goes off again; it’s only Matt wondering why he went offline. Using speed dial he listens with bated breath as the dial tone chirps at him.

“Mercy?” Hux picks up on the third ring and sounds somewhat out of breath.

A choking sound escapes the back of Techie’s throat and he’s faintly aware of how damp his cheeks are. He isn’t sure when he started crying. Two tries of formulating words and he breaks down completely into sobs. He can still hear his step mother’s shrill voice calling his name and he’s certain she’s going to find a way in.

“ _Ren_ go put some pants on – something’s wrong with my brother.” Techie can hear Hux though he’s muffled; more than likely cupped his hand over the mic of his phone. “ _Right now_ , Ren. I’ll pay any speeding ticket you get on the way there.”

“Mercy can you tell me what’s wrong?” Hux is beginning to panic.

Techie glances over to the door again. He wonders if Maratelle has left but he doubts it, she’s not one to give up without a fight. “S-she’s here,” somehow he manages to get it out through the gasping of his lungs.

The line goes deathly quiet for a moment.

“How did she find us Armie?”

There’s no way for his brother to know. Their name is unlisted from the building. They don’t even get mail sent to their mailbox; Hux gets it sent to a P.O. Box on the other end of town. He’s been paying the landlord for three years to keep his mouth shut. Either someone talked or Maratelle has been following Hux home from work.

“I don’t know,” Hux admits softly. “Are all the doors locked? The door chain?”

“I-I’m not sure, Hux I don’t know what to do!” Techie feels like he might throw up. His heart is still beating a mile a minute and his lungs haven’t caught up with how hard he’s panting.

Hux will be home soon. But that nagging feeling that she will somehow make it past the front door is putting him into hysterics. “Mercy,” Hux starts softly and Techie knows what he’s about to tell him, knows that he’ll have to venture out of the bedroom, out of safety. “She’s going to get the key from next door. You have to lock the door chain; if you can’t then you are going to barricade yourself in our room. Move the dresser in front of the door and the bed, whatever you have to and you are going to stay put until I’m home. I’m getting into the car now – I’m going to lose signal from the tunnels.”

It’s how absolutely sure Hux is that allows Techie to pad to the bedroom door and press his ear to the wood. There are voices far off and muffled, clearly not coming from inside the apartment.  He considers giving up; letting her weasel her way into the apartment as he barricades himself in. But this is their home. Anything she sees will be ammunition against them both and Techie will not allow her to hurt Hux anymore than she already has – he won’t let her use him against his brother.

The line drops like predicted and Techie slips his phone into his pocket after switching it to silent.

Her laugh rings in his ears from the hallway. Hux is on friendly terms with the neighbours in their corner unit and they have occasionally looked after Millicent during their absence. Maratelle will be playing the concerned mother who’s forgotten her own copy of their key at home; despite her never having set foot in the building before. She’s always looked harmless, even with her foot stomping into a rib.

Techie inches his way towards the front door –heartbeat pounding in his ears.

The deadbolt is locked but the door chain hangs limply out of place. He reaches out with sweat slicked fingers just as the key enters the door knob. She jiggles it a moment before inserting it into the deadbolt. In the split second that the door chain is slid into place the door is unlocked and the handle turns. She curses as the chain keeps it from opening, even her slender wrists won’t be able to reach around to unfasten it.

“William, honey, open the door for your mother,” she keeps her voice gentle but he can see the full length of her through the sliver of the open door. The cold glare has him retreating an instinctive step backwards. He leans against the wall, unable to look away. Two years hasn’t stopped the way her presence liquefies his legs beneath him, he slides down the wall, mouth gulping for the air he can’t seem to get into his lungs. At the back of his mind he registers he’s having a panic attack.

She jiggles the door handle again as if it might unlock the door chain and grant her access to cross the threshold. Hux had once compared her to a blood sucking creature of the night; Techie only wishes she would be barred entry unless invited in like one.

He’s starting to black out. Can feel it at the edges of his vision, he’s breathing too fast and too hard. Soon Hux will be here but while Maratelle is seething at him through the crack in the door he can’t focus on anything else. He doesn’t know what she wants. She won’t _leave_.

“I’m not going to ask you again.”

But she doesn’t have to because he’s already fallen still against the wood flooring unconscious.

 

-

It’s warm. Warmer than it should be with his body curled limply on the hardwood floor and much softer. Maybe he’s stuck in a dreamscape –somewhere warm and safe while Maratelle is on the other side of reality clawing with overly long nails wearing down the wood around the bolt to make her way inside.

Techie shudders at the thought, curling further in around himself and a hand presses softly to his cheek. He winces, expecting the sharp points of filed acrylic to drag welts along his fragile skin. But the pain never comes.

He blinks unsteadily, headache already pounding in his temples. Reminiscent of times past that he pushes somewhere far out of reach.

Hux is laid out next to him in their bed. He can’t imagine how he got here; Hux is strong but not strong enough to lug 150lbs of dead weight from one far end of the apartment to another.

There’s the sound of a power drill whirring in the background along with the clink of metal. “They’re changing the locks,” Hux supplies, running a hand over Techie’s hair. No light is shining through the window across from them so it must still be early morning. The neighbours might complain but after this incident Techie is sure they’ll be moving within the week. It isn’t safe to stay here now. It isn’t safe. _Is anywhere safe?_

No. She’ll track them down to the ends of the earth. Techie is sure of it. She knows how to seep between the cracks of the frame work. Most of all she knows how to sink through the cracks of him. The cracks she spent years making, chipping through muscle and bone to get at the marrow and sink her fucking teeth in.

“Where?” His throat is dry and he swallows around nothing trying to expel the sensation. It’ll take a couple of hours before the fuzz coating his brain begins to lift and even longer for the headache to fade.

Hux shakes his head because he doesn’t know how to supply an answer to that. She always had a sixth sense for his brother’s presence. Probably took off the moment Techie dropped to the floor unconscious; a bolt cutter just a tad too suspicious for her tastes.

Mugs clink in the kitchen between the locksmiths rustling farther out in the hall. “It’s only Ren,” Hux murmurs following Techie’s line of sight. “I should have stayed home tonight.” He tucks a lock of hair behind Techie’s ear. “We’ll find out how she’s been keeping tabs on us. And I’m afraid we’ll have to move again. In the meantime Ren has offered us a place to stay while I get everything sorted.”

Which really only means one thing.

“You won’t be coming with me,” Techie whispers the accusation into his pillow.

Distractedly Hux stares into the kitchen where he is clearly watching Ren do something that has Hux scrunching his nose up in annoyance, probably watering down tea or something. “Ren don’t you dare put any ice cubes in my tea you heathen!” Hux is woefully predictable.  He turns back to Techie after leveling a proper glare into the kitchen. “We’ll only be apart a couple of days. I trust Ren with my life and you’ll be safer with him than here with me.”

Safer with a man he’s never actually met? Techie doesn’t buy it. He hasn’t been without Hux more than 48 hours at a time and he isn’t sure it’s even possible at this point. “But Armie –“

He’s fixed with a stern look that brokers no argument. Instead of pouting into his pillow he shifts to tuck himself against Hux’s side, resting his head over his chest. Hux wraps an arm around his shoulders mechanically.

 _This_ is what safety feels like. His nostrils flare as he sniffs back whatever emotion is currently restricting his throat.

From this angle he can watch Hux purchase two first-class tickets to LAX from his phone. One for him and one for Kylo Ren; he wonders briefly what will happen to poor Millie in this exchange. The departure date is set for later that evening. Enough time to pack up what little they value before moving on.

Hux presses his lips to the top of Techie’s head. “I’ll die before I let her touch you again.”


	2. Support has arrived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techie and Hux are forced to move after their stepmother Maratelle tracks them down. Her current location is unknown but will moving across the country finally be the answer they're searching for? Will Techie find love or just a perpetual sunburn? These questions unanswered and more!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No chapter warnings

California is where gingers go to die.

This is something Techie is absolutely certain of because if the heat doesn’t kill him Kylo’s driving certainly will. He has one hand gripped knuckle white around the grab handle (or commonly referred to as when driving with Hux – the _Jesus Fucking Christ Handle_ ). They’ve only been on the road for five minutes and he thinks he might just faint if Kylo keeps darting in and out of traffic at roughly 30 clicks above the speed limit.

“Doing okay?” Kylo glances over at him from over the top of his sunglasses and Techie is forced to nod vigorously lest he open his mouth and puke all over the dashboard.

He hadn’t thought for a moment that anyone would be able to top Hux’s ridiculous driving. How very wrong he was. At least Hux grips the steering wheel with two hands, he watches through the passenger side window through the fingers of one hand so he doesn’t have to witness Kylo drive with his knees.

There are only a few things he has learned about Kylo Ren over the past five hours. Firstly – he drives like a fucking maniac. He wears expensive cologne with ripped jeans and too tight band shirts, Techie is still reeling that the man is his _lawyer_. Although his fashion is loud the man himself is quiet; unless around Hux, the two bicker like an old married couple. There’s a scar grazing far too near to his eye that Techie keeps catching himself staring at and he diverts his gaze just as quick. Hux had told him to mind his manners and he endeavors to do as such.

The car ride lasts an eternity. Techie isn’t even sure where Kylo lives besides the vague ‘in LA’ that someone who has never _been_ to LA would shrug at. His legs resemble something akin to Jell-O as he steps out of the car. The whole of his back is one solid patch of sweat from the leather seats even with the air conditioning blasted on max. Kylo could offer him the powerball winnings and he would still decline to get back in that car with him.

 Poor Millicent has curled to the back of her carrier, still high on sedatives from the plane ride. Techie unbuckles the crate from the back seat, holding it close to his chest as she shifts around sluggishly. At least she isn’t screaming like every time they’d taken her in the car to the vet. Though admittedly, in Kylo’s defense, his driving is quite a bit smoother than Hux’s.

Kylo lugs the three suitcases and Techie’s carry-on out from the hatch of the SUV. He’s pushed his hair into a bun since exiting the vehicle to reveal overly large ears; Techie finds them rather cute on him. He goes to take his bag from him but Kylo politely shoos him towards the house at the end of the driveway while he effortlessly carries everything Techie owns to his name along with his own suitcase towards the front door.

Now, he’s not sure what house is considered ‘big’ to LA standards but compared to the cramped two bedroom apartment he’d lived in before – it’s massive. There’s a two door garage to the left that is roughly the size of their entire apartment. But Kylo’s already shooing him inside before he can get anything more than a rushed glance.

He knows that Kylo is a lawyer but how the hell does he afford a place like this on his own? Techie keeps his mouth shut and follows close on the other man’s heels. Trying his best not to openly gawk at each hallway and open door they pass by. It’s quite a feat with all the outlandish merchandise shoved into every free nook and cranny. He swore he saw a life-size Darth Vader in the last room but that would take further investigation.

They stop in the kitchen; Kylo dropping all of their bags into a pile next to the island before busying himself inside the fridge. Techie stands off to the side awkwardly. As usual unsure of what he should be doing.

“You can let her out, I have everything set up for her and as long as we keep the back door closed she won’t get out,” Kylo said, pulling two bottles of water out of the fridge. He hands one to Techie before twisting off the cap of his own and drowning it down in three gulps.

Techie stood with water bottle in one hand and Millie’s carrier in the other. The condensation slicks down his wrist as he stares at a spot on the floor absently.

He startles when Kylo gently pries the carrier from his hand and set it down on the floor. Millicent is sluggish as she waltzes out onto unfamiliar ground. She’ll disappear the next few hours once the drugs have worn off. Probably head straight for whatever Kylo values the most and rub every inch of her little orange body all over it. There wasn’t a spot in their apartment Millie hadn’t rubbed her cheeks against.

For now she rams her face into Techie’s ankles before flopping down over both of his feet purring like a miniature lawn mower.

After a brief deliberation on takeout they settle with pizza. Kylo puts in the order, happy to go with Techie’s choice of ‘meat lovers.’ In the time before the food’s arrival he gives Techie a brief tour of the house. It’s even bigger than Techie had anticipated.

There’s a whole room devoted to music, a workshop, a sauna, and more geeky merchandise than he has ever laid eyes on. There is in fact a life size replica of Darth Vader in one of the rooms and Kylo allows him to fawn over it as long as he pleases; which still isn’t quite long enough since pizza arrives.

They eat in comfortable silence with A New Hope playing on the TV in the background.

 

 

No matter how Techie tried to refuse the offer he had ended up staying in Kylo’s room until they could put something together for him. The very thought made him queasy. He’d have much rather curled up on the couch in the living room but Kylo had _insisted_.

He already feels sorry for how much ginger hair has been tracked over Kylo’s black bed sheets. Though he might already be used to that with Hux; Techie tries not to think about it.

The room is large and minimalistic in dark hues of grey that do not suit the rest of the house at all. This is very clearly a space Kylo has hoarded to his own imaginings. An ensuite flanks to the right of the room behind a sliding dark wood barn style door. Millie has already taken to sitting stubbornly on the vanity awaiting Techie to turn on the tap for her. He can see her orange tail flicking back and forth from the corner of his eye as he lies out on the bed.

It shouldn’t surprise him that the sheets smell like Kylo. Except it does; he’s used to the smell of woody cologne used sparingly and flowery shampoo (that Hux swears the salon had suggested for his thick hair but Techie knows him better than that). It’s just… so unnerving that his environment has changed so drastically within the last 24 hours. He hates it.

Hux won’t be here for another handful of days. Part of him wants to hide beneath the covers and sulk because of course this isn’t fair. Nothing about this has ever been fair and he thought they’d put the past behind them but _she_ was just so insistent. She’ll follow them here; he knows it. Maratelle will worm her way in and Techie will be helpless to resist her.

He flings an arm up over his eyes. Feeling somewhere between helpless and morose as his phone dings from where it’s plugged in on the other side of the room. God he hopes it’s Matt.

With a grunt he sits up on his elbows and glowers at the blinking blue light signifying a new text message. It better be Matt. He’d tried to call him on skype twice earlier with no answer. His PS4 hadn’t been shipped across country yet and Kylo had at least been kind enough to slip him a piece of paper with the Wi-Fi password jotted down. His laptop sits at the end of the bed with an array of bubbles floating across the screen. No one used screen savers anymore – he doesn’t care.

It wasn’t Matt. Hux was checking in – again.

This was the third time since they’d landed and it was only 7pm. Techie wonders briefly if Hux is having as hard of time with their separation as he is.

Not that he has much time to think as the screen switches over to an incoming video call. He swipes right to accept it. Hux’s usual neutral scowl greets him, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile as he shoves an envelope header into the screen.

After a moment the camera focuses to display what is clearly a letter addressed to him. He squints at it suspiciously as Hux’s hand trembles slightly making the screen blur. There is however a snippet he’s able to distinguish before Hux’s face comes back into frame. _Blizzard Entertainment Games_ and _Battle.Net_ stand out in particular.

“Please tell me you already opened it,” Techie leans forward, cupping his phone in both hands.

Hux nods, that mischievous glitter returning to his eyes. “Naturally,” the image shifts to another letter with a similar headline. “They seem to want a response quite desperately.”

Techie chews at his bottom lip nervously. God does he hate when Hux pulls his natural flare for dramatics out like this. “ _Armie_ –“he’s whining again; something he hates to admit seems to work best.

“ _Mercy_ ,” Hux matches his pitch perfectly before covering the smirk on his lips with a hand. It would be less annoying if he could snatch the letter from his brother’s hands. “They’re tournament acceptance letters. I had no idea you would even be interested in such a thing. E-sports are they?”

The urge to roll his eyes is not resisted. “Yes, Armie, they’re E-sports.” As if he hasn’t tried to explain the concept to Hux a couple dozen times already.

“And you’ve already completed your preliminary matches,” Hux drawls out further raising an eyebrow. “Is this something you would be interested in pursuing?”

Obviously it is. He wouldn’t have participated in all of those preliminary matches if he hadn’t. “Can you please get to the point before I hang up and deny you the conversation you clearly want with Millicent?”

“They’ve sent a few documents that you need to sign and FedEx back if you wish to move on to Nationals. Now about seeing my child –“

“She’s spreading fur all over Kylo’s bathroom,” Techie flips to the back camera and rolls over so that he can angle in Millie’s flicking tail hanging off the white porcelain sink.

A chuckle follows the smile spreading on Hux’s lips. “Oh Millie,” he murmurs fondly.

Techie glances back over to his laptop eager to share this news with Matt even if he’ll be forced to leave him a voice message over skype.  That irking bubble of anxiety starts to spread in his chest again. Matt has never simply disappeared like this before and he’s starting to worry something awful has become of him.

He flops over on his stomach switching to the front camera. “When will you get here?”

“A couple days, Tech, there are a lot of things I have to do at the firm to transfer offices. Plus we still have belongings here that have to be put into storage or shipped over there, these things take time. Please try to be patient; Kylo will take care of you.” Before Techie can reply with something petulant about being taken care of Hux cuts him off, “have you taken your medication today?”

Yes, of course he has. He tells Hux as much. There isn’t a way in hell he’d be functioning if he hadn’t though perhaps the way he’s holed himself up in Kylo’s room hasn’t exactly helped prove otherwise. Across the house he can catch the sound of Kylo presumably moving room from room. Really, Techie would like to be a little more social but he hasn’t a clue what to talk to the man about and without Hux as a buffer he’s become more withdrawn.

They talk for another handful of minutes before they’re exchanging their rare ‘I love you’s.’ Hux promises to call again in the morning at a reasonable hour which will still be far too early for Techie. The goodbyes are painful in their finality.

He finds himself staring blankly at the wall trying to bury the hole in his chest. It just goes to show how much he relies on Hux in every aspect of his life. Without him – well he tries not to think about it too hard lest he give himself an anxiety attack.

For now he attempts to channel the budding abandonment into overly forced excitement. It doesn’t exactly work, at all, but he’s trying and that’s points for effort.

A shake to his mouse turns off his screen saver and he opens up skype. Matt is still displayed as ‘away,’ Techie hits the call button anyways. Content to let it ring a few minutes before trying again; it’s a losing battle.

“Matt where the fuck are you,” Techie mutters resting his chin on his fist. He checks through several platforms – steam, kik, battle.net, and all turn up offline. Wouldn’t Matt have told him if he wasn’t going to make their strict 3 o’clock gaming sessions? God, he was calling them sessions now. That didn’t make it untrue.

Ever since the incident last night he hasn’t heard a peep. That was a rather touchy subject to address. At least the read receipt for it had been read but that hardly makes up for the absence of well – everything. Matt was always so understanding of everything, this should be absolutely no different.

Wherever he’s gone Techie prays he comes back; _soon_.

On the third and most obviously desperate final call he decides to leave a voice message. _“Hey, Matt – uh I hope you’re okay? You haven’t been online and I’m a bit worried. But I’m probably just, you know, being stupid… I passed my placements. Just hoped you’d gotten word of how yours went. Just – please text me if you get a second. Bye.”_

He almost deletes it, almost. Except he is worried and he’s convinced that he can finally let it go, for tonight at least. He checks over all his applications to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. He hasn’t. There’s still no message from Matt ten minutes later so he shuts his laptop and flops back in bed. Stubbornly clutching his phone to his chest; the ringer is still on incase Matt messages in the middle of the night.

 

The next couple days pass without much incident. Kylo is plenty happy to give Techie whatever amount of space he deems necessary and is pleasant enough company. He’s much quieter a companion than Techie is used to and he finds himself missing the constant drone of his brother’s voice above all else.

Hux has been so busy rushing to get everything in order he’s nearly disappeared off the map. There are no more video calls that last painfully long or phone calls and texts demanding status reports. But Hux still finds time to send snapchats of things like their belongings snuggly packed up in the back of a moving truck and of all of Techie’s hair ties that he’s found under the couch once it had been moved out of the apartment.

After three days Hux finally texts him that he’s on the next redeye to LAX. Their belongings will arrive the morning after his arrival. Finally Techie will be able to sleep besides cat naps on the couch; having found it impossible to fall asleep in his new surroundings. The house is so much quieter than their apartment and even Hux’s obnoxious little snores are something Techie looks forward to. The bags under his eyes have grown dark and bruise like, he feels like he’s been sucker punched up the side of the head; he’ll fight Kylo if he thinks even for a moment that Hux will be sleeping anywhere else.

When he’s gotten a decent night’s rest he’ll submit to sleeping alone.

 

There’s a soft click as the bedroom door opens revealing a spill of light from the hallway in an overly bright panel that bathes the room. Techie doesn’t bother to roll over, watches the far wall as the rectangle of light is swallowed back into black as the door closes again. He listens to the rustle of clothing being removed and the soft whispers of words not meant for his ears as Millie gives a soft mur having been woken.

She stretches out all four of her paws against Techie’s back before rolling over and giving a halfhearted meow that’s hushed gently. Techie almost rolls over to tug her back against him; jealous. Of course she’d leave him. He bites back the twinge of annoyance forming on his brow and stares through the darkness, senses hyper sensitive to the body crawling into bed next to him.

The jealousy is quashed by an arm wrapping around his chest, slow and tentative, Hux probably assumes he’s asleep. Except Techie squirms back into him, snatching his brother’s hand to lace his fingers between his; it’s been too long. He’s almost certain Hux can feel the way his shoulders have begun to tremor, how his breath has turned into something rough and splintered.

Hux stays silent, squeezing Techie’s fingers gently and resting his chin against the top of his head. His cold feet also stray against Techie’s calves but for once he doesn’t complain.

Sleep finds him in an embarrassingly short amount of time. All those nights spent staring blankly at the ceiling have taken their toll and Hux’s warm chest against his back is just the catalyst his sleep deprived body needs to fall into a dreamless rest.

Though rather than the previous days of lounging in bed until the sun has reached its peak he’s rudely divested of covers at 8am. How Hux is even alive and coherent after a red eye Techie will never know.

“Ren might let you sleep all day but I will not – come on now.” Hux’s voice is muffled slightly by the mostly closed bathroom door. Lucky he’s out of projectile range; for now.

Techie rolls over onto his stomach and pulls his pillow over his head. Ignoring the sliver of warmth from the parted curtains where the sun tattoos its’ mark on his skin. If he doesn’t move sometime in the next twenty minutes that exact spot will glow a rosy hue of freshly burnt skin. It’s a decent enough pay off.

“Millie go get him up,” Hux says from the bathroom doorway.

She’s too busy twining around Hux’s ankles happily to obey the command. On a normal day she’d march all over Techie’s back as Hux held a package of treats to congratulate her success. There’s no crinkle of the treat bag so Techie knows it’s an empty threat.

The thump of Hux sitting down on the mattress however is nothing but lethal. Techie peeks up at him from beneath the pillow, squinting. How he wishes Hux wasn’t such a morning person.

Whatever glare Hux was trying to level at him seems to melt almost immediately. He heaves an intentionally dramatic sigh and makes a show of tugging the duvet all the way up to his brother’s chin. It isn’t quite defeat but its close enough.

Without much preamble Hux pulls out his phone and leans on his elbow. He finds whatever he’s looking for and turns to show Techie the screen. “Either this,” he flicks his finger to show another tab, “or this – take your pick.”

It’s eight in the morning and Hux is making his choose a bed and desk combo. “Really?” he mutters tugging the pillow back in place and shutting his eyes.

“Mercy –“

Techie finds the energy to roll over, still using the pillow to half shield himself from his brother. “Armie just pick one and let me sleep, they’re both practically the same!”

This isn’t the answer Hux wants to hear but it’s obviously the one he expects. “Go back to sleep then sleeping beauty. Strip the bed once you’re up and feed Millie a cup, Ren’s been over feeding her.” He punctuates this by rubbing at her stomach where she’s perched at the end of the bed. “Ren picked you up eggos for breakfast, and I’ll leave the paperwork you need to fill out on the counter. We’re moving you into the room across from the bathroom downstairs so pack up your things.”

“Alright, alright,” Techie groans throwing the covers up and over his head petulantly.

Hux leaves him after wrestling down the covers to leave a peck on his cheek. He seriously considers forcing himself back to sleep but his phone is flashing blue in the upper left hand corner and he reaches for it so fast he nearly lurches off the bed. It’s Matt. _Thank fuck_ , it’s finally Matt.

And with typical Matt behavior, Techie nearly chucks his phone across the room. He’s greeted with two eggplant emoji’s.

Silence for days and all he receives are _eggplant emoji’s._

He’s absolutely certain that if Matt were to show up in front of him he’d ring his neck before anything else. (Despite not knowing what he looks like of course).

Really, he’s not even sure why he’s surprised at this point. He doesn’t even deem it worthy of a reply, reads that it was sent around three in the morning and drops his phone face down in the blankets with a muffled snarl. Matt means the world to him but he is so god damn inconsiderate sometimes! There better be a good excuse on his end.

Sleep is entirely a fleeting thing at this point and despite the warmth of the covers Techie slinks his way out of bed. Set on shoving his clothes, both worn and clean, into his suitcase. The faster he gets it over with the more time he’ll have to both mentally and physically prepare for the documents left waiting for him.

A quick scrub of his teeth, hair shoved into a frizzy disaster of a bun, yesterday’s outfit peeled off the floor and he’s lugging his suitcase down the stairs. He can see Kylo from the landing as he struggles his way down, a bowl of cereal clutched to his bare chest as he blinks blearily into it. Something tells him that Hux had just as rudely awoken him a handful of minutes before.

He leaves his suitcase next to the banister. Gives Kylo a silent nod in greeting and dives for the freezer to divest a set of eggos from their packaging. There’s nothing left to do but lean against the kitchen counter after he’s shoved them into the toaster. A pot of coffee is slowly filling and he’s sure if he pauses the cycle to snag a cup Hux will appear out of thin air like some unholy creature of the night. He longs for the Keurig that he knows Hux packed snuggly on the moving truck; as if the caffeine gremlin that his brother is could live without it.

Hux is now fully dressed when he reappears. Hair already slicked to the top of his head. He brings the pomade with him everywhere, he wonders if Kylo’s caught on to that yet. He makes a bee line for the coffee pot, green eyes shifting between the two men only once he’s taken a long scalding sip.

“Ren, why aren’t you dressed?”

To be fair, for someone that’s still only half awake, Kylo glares back at Hux with venom. Instead of replying he shovels another spoonful of cheerios into his mouth and chews loudly.

The toaster popping out Techie’s slightly burnt eggos are his saving grace to inch away from between the two. He messily slathers peanut butter over them and takes the maple syrup with him on his way out to the patio. Morning greets him with blue skies and a muggy heat that promises the day will be blistering.

He squeezes the remnants lining the syrup bottle onto his eggos without much thought. Staring blankly at the cool surface of the pool as he wolfs down his breakfast; the sun overly warm on the back of his neck.

Out of sheer boredom he thumbs open the dating app on his phone after chancing a cursory glance to see if Hux has moved from his perch curled over the coffee machine; he hasn’t but Techie can easily imagine him spitting and foaming at the mouth as Kylo reaches out for the pot. Ridiculous.

He has a handful of new messages which he skims through already knowing he won’t reply. It makes him feel superficial in the worst ways but he can tell quite clearly they have absolutely nothing in common. He hasn’t checked the site since that last night and it takes a bit of scrolling through notifications to find what he’s looking for. There’s no new message from **Vaderfanboi91** and Techie clicks on his profile curiously.

 **_Vaderfanboi91_ ** _online 6 days ago_

Techie muffles an annoyed sigh into the palm of the hand he’s resting his chin on. It’s a good thing the site doesn’t let anyone know when you’ve viewed their profile that could be potentially incriminating for how many times he’ll be checking back on it. Who would be able to resist those baby browns and warm smile? Not him, that’s for certain.

After another thorough scan through the man’s profile he sits back in his seat nibbling his bottom lip. The man’s kept everything pretty vague besides his age and location. He stares at the city displayed below his profile pictures, fighting not to start nervously twitching in his seat. **Los Angeles, California**. How had he not noticed that immediately before?

Despite better judgement he clicks back to his messages, watches the cursor blink in wait for him to start typing. He hates to admit that he has truly cultivated an interest in this man that he’s exchanged no more than five messages with. It’s sad and so fucking typical of him that he almost deletes the app right then and there out of spite. But he won’t. If there’s even a chance this ethereal blonde could have a real interest in him then he knows he’ll reach for it by whatever unraveling little strand no matter the size and tug until he’s either greeted with tatters or the man himself.

 **TheGoodDoctor:** Do you play competitive at all? Overwatch I mean! :)

He feels overeager, probably looks it too. The smiley at the end makes him cringe at his own bad decisions. Too late to take it back now though. He shuts the app and scowls down at his syrup glazed plate. When did life get so tedious?

 

Three hours, that’s how long it takes him to fill out the paperwork between doodling on a napkin, referencing actual relevant information like his I.D., and spam refreshing the dating site’s webpage.

An ache has developed in the small of his back and he stretches on his way out to the patio. It’s midday, the sun sitting directly overhead. The only shade in the backyard is beneath two trees where a hammock has been hung between. The air is so thick and muggy here compared to anywhere else he’s lived; it’s almost hard to inhale. Still, he flops down in the hammock with a satisfied sigh.

He naps all of fifteen minutes before his skin is glistening with sweat and he’s expended the small allotted time he has for being outdoors for the day. Catching his reflection as he reaches for the patio door he can see how his hair has instantly taken to frizzing in the slight humidity. He huffs irritably.

Oddly there’s a bottle of Canadian maple syrup plopped in the middle of the kitchen table that hadn’t been there before. Techie eyes it suspiciously; it hadn’t been there a mere fifteen minutes prior. In those fifteen minutes he’s managed to get a rather nasty sunburn between the part of his hair on his scalp and the crest of each shoulder. Ceremoniously he takes the bottle of aloe vera from the nook by the patio door and settles down on the living room sofa to start slathering it over the blistered skin. It’s cold but soothing as he rubs it in using little clockwise motions.

So much for trying to enjoy the day, he thinks bitterly. Maybe Matt will finally be home so they can tuck into a few matches to get his head cleared. He misses him something awful.  

He’s starting to think he’s developed a nervous twitch with how often he’s begun checking his phone. He has the volume on – he _knows_ that there’ll be nothing on the screen but still he can’t seem to stop himself from glancing every couple minutes.

From his spot on the couch he can hear Kylo and Hux bickering. They’d been trying to assemble Techie’s new bed and desk for the last two hours; Hux had been quick to banish him from the work.

“It’s from IKEA Ren, this isn’t rocket science!” Hux snaps before closing the door and muffling whichever scathing retort follows.

There wasn’t a single thing about California so far that he found he enjoyed. It was too hot, even in an air-conditioned room he could feel the sweat forming on his skin; it was like the sun had decided _“this spot in particular deserves to die.”_ Yet across from him, built into the wall was a gas fireplace. It didn’t even snow here; he doubted it got cold enough to. So why in God’s name did this place need _two_ fireplaces _and_ a wood burning stove?

Techie sunk further into the couch, the material rubbing uncomfortably against his sun bitten skin. Too hot to wear his normal oversized t-shirts. Too hot to wear pants. Too hot to live in this state comfortably and yet Hux was helping his _“he’s not my boyfriend”_ boyfriend build Techie’s bed for his new room. He knew they had to move. But this really didn’t seem like a pit stop. They’d built their lives in a “pick up and go” style and everything that Hux had done thus far since arriving the night before contradicted that entire lifestyle. It seemed like he was preparing to settle. He had never wanted to settle anywhere less in his whole life.

The little nagging voice at the back of his head reminds him he should be grateful. He was; he _is_. If Hux is happy that’s all he can ask for.

“Do you like it here Mill?” he asks the furry fiend rubbing against his leg, her ginger fur sticking to the layer of sweat on his skin.

She murs back at him before jumping up into his lap where he obediently scratches her cheeks. “You just like how often Kylo feeds you,” he sighs as she settles down, using his lap as a nest of sorts with her nose tucked beneath her paw. Her claws gently kneed at his thighs, the pinpricks of each sharp talon grazing him through the heavy material of his cargo shorts.

After checking his phone once more (probably for the billionth time) he reaches for his 3DS sitting on the table and opens Animal Crossing with one hand while petting one spoiled Millicent with the other.  Headphones plugged into his phone he opens (also for the billionth time) the single web link Matt had messaged him from skype at 3am last night with absolutely no context. Because of course Matt would spare a moment in the middle of the night to send him some ridiculous song that reminded him of him. It takes the ache of his absence and places it somewhere in the shady grey of tolerant.

Now, Techie prides himself on being spatially aware. He constantly does a visual dart around the room, checks his peripherals, and uses the excuse of cracking his neck to look behind him. But today it’s bartering with Tom Nook the greedy bell glutton raccoon that keeps him from seeing the man hovering behind him.

It’s the sense of foreboding that makes his head swivel versus the sound of the gun being cocked.

But by the time his brain registers it’s already too late.

There’s the sound of the other man’s laugh before he gets hit with a jet of overly warm water straight up his left nostril. Followed by an “Oh my god you’re not-“as Techie chokes on what he can now smell and taste of the pool’s chlorinated water. Everything happens simultaneously; Millie digs her claws into his thighs as he jolts sideways, his headphones wrench roughly from his ears, and his 3DS clatters to the floor. “Fuck! Millie!”

“Shit shit shit, I am so sorry!” his attacker bolts over towards him, intent on gently prying the smaller ginger beast out of Techie’s legs.

“What the hell!” Techie recoils from him automatically, hunching in over Millie protectively.

The other man glances over his shoulder worriedly before dramatically shushing him and reaching forward slowly to pull Techie’s arms from around Millicent. He moves slowly, like one might with a wild animal. The oversized super soaker rests on the couch next to them and Techie only wishes he were brave enough to jam the nozzle up the other man’s nose so he can pay him back properly. But the way his large hands are soothing Millie to give up her vicious cling will do; for now. Techie tries half-heartedly not to stare.

“I- thought you were someone else?” he offers lamely, having pried one of Millie’s paws out of Techie’s thigh.

Techie cannot imagine who he could have been mistaken for. There’s not a single ginger he knows that can inspire something so, he imagines, grudging to be shot up the nose with pool water.

“Mercy? Are you alright I heard – **_MATTHEW!_** ”

Oh. _That_ ginger.

 Livid couldn’t begin to explain how Hux is driving daggers into the other man. Likewise really for how the other man is glaring right back, not retracting his hands from Millie who is now contently purring and pushing herself into his touch. Though Hux can’t really see Millicent from where he’s standing behind the couch, heating the very air with his fury. Nor can he see the water gun resting against his ankle.

Kylo skids into the living room, stumbling into Hux who seems to keep on his feet and immoveable with willpower alone. “Ah, Fuck, hey Matt” he mutters before giving the man a sour look. “You were supposed to call me when you got into LAX you idiot.”

The guy named Matt hasn’t unlocked his gaze from Hux’s. He slowly retracts from Millie, reaching beside him for the water gun as he nods and gives a faint (heartbreaking) smile. “I wanted to surprise you with my presence,” he shrugs innocently before bringing up the gun and cocking it in one fluid motion. “And shit on someone’s parade.” He pulls the trigger.

Both Hux and Kylo are soaked. The water might simply evaporate right off Hux from how badly he’s fuming; mouth gaping open speechless, Techie has never seen him like this before. Kylo’s laughing along with Matt while securing both arms around Hux to keep him from lunging the gap between them.

“I missed you, carrot-top,” Matt bats his eyelashes sweetly and Techie swears he can hear Hux let out some sort of snort turned growl from beneath his breath.

He’s still sitting far too close to Techie. Matt’s knee is dug into his hip and even his arms where they’re still holding the gun are close enough to Techie’s that he can feel the heat radiating off of him. The warmth is so nice even amongst the sweltering heat seeping in through the now open patio door that Techie almost wants to lean into it.

Instead he mumbles a soft, “um…”

Everyone finally seems to notice his presence tucked awkwardly next to Matt and Hux immediately goes somewhere between vicious and maternal. “Get away from my brother before I strangle you with the headphones you stole from me last month!”

Matt rolls his eyes before standing up from the couch and giving Techie a rough pat on the back, right on his sunburn making him wince. “Sorry man, I had no idea general gingersnaps had a brother and well… from behind you’re both ginger so I assumed…”

It’s Kylo who clears his throat loudly and gestures with his chin for Matt to make a break for it before Hux breaks one of his ribs to go after him.

“Well, I’ll be at Poe’s until Red can form a proper insult,” Matt waltzes up to the two of them, boops Hux’s nose and walks calmly out the front door while Hux squirms wildly in Kylo’s hold.

Techie, who has rarely seen Hux lose any sort of cool, is flabbergasted by it all. He has no idea who the hell this Matt guy is and why he was in Kylo’s house or why he has a vendetta against his brother. But by God, if the man wasn’t a tall glass of something savory; he flushes at the thought.

Two minutes later Kylo finally releases Hux who has finally managed to pull himself under composure. He pushes his damp hair back against his scalp and absolutely scowls at Kylo. “I hate him, I hope you are perfectly aware of that and I will smother him in his sleep if he doesn’t grow up,” Hux snarls. Then he turns to Techie, breathing out sharply through his nose. “Are you alright?”

Techie just nods slowly. He’d been given one hell of a fright. “It was just a prank,” he shrugs weakly with a not all there smile. Pretending as always that it wasn’t a big deal and that the tremor in his hands hasn’t come back now that Matt’s heat isn’t acting like a stand in for his nerves. “W-who was that?”

“An _imbecile_ ,” Hux snaps back before scowling at how Techie has flinched back from his tone. He sighs heavily through his nose before coming round the couch and sprawling down onto it with an arm tucked behind Techie’s back. The soft circles Hux rubs into his skin are soothing; familiar in the best ways. Hux’s cheeks are still an angry red and he glares as Kylo approaches them from behind the couch.

To his credit; Kylo doesn’t back down. Simply shoves Hux over further and sinks into the couch next to him. “Matt’s my roommate,” Kylo explains watching as the sides of Hux’s lips turn into a pucker.

That’s all he seems to get out of the two of them; his curiosity less than sated.

 

Hux is still adamantly refusing to allow Techie to help with desk construction, which would be perfectly acceptable had there not been a gaggle of overtly loud strangers in the living room. His belongings, of course, have been shuffled over from the base of the stairs to the room Hux has barricaded Kylo and himself in. So it’s not as if he can hide out with Millicent away from the noise and the skittering of corgi paws in Kylo’s room without raising unnecessary fuss. He seriously considers risking the scolding from Hux.

It’s almost like Hux wants him to _socialize_.

That won’t be happening. After this afternoon’s escapade he’s happy to keep his distance from Kylo’s roommate. Matt waltzed back in the house with his pack of hyenas half an hour ago and for now they’ve seemed content to keep themselves contained to the living room. That would be all fine and dandy if Techie had somewhere equally as remote to stuff himself away until they all left. The best option is back outside where the sun has just started to set on a sleepy horizon, but that would mean trekking through the living room to get out there. He isn’t sure he has the stomach for it.

He’s absolutely sure that if Hux catches him lingering in the hallway he’ll be forcefully introduced to them all.

In the end it’s the little orange and white corgi that comes shuffling down the hall past him directly up the stairwell and into Kylo’s open doorway that forces him to move away from the locked door. For a creature with such small little legs the dog is surprisingly hard to catch.

The dog’s tags, proclaiming her to be named bee-bee, clink against her collar as Techie lugs her down the stairs in his arms away from a spitting Millicent. He closes the door gently behind him and positions the squirming bundle over one shoulder. “You’re a handful aren’t you?” he grins as he receives a tongue to the cheek in reply. Seeing no other option he meanders towards the raised voices in the living room with one corgi in tow.

Bee-Bee barks their arrival as Techie hurries to place her on the ground as gently as possible from where he’s standing nervously behind the couch.  Simultaneously four heads turn in his direction. Besides Matt there are two guys and a girl lounging in various stages of mid Mario Kart road rage.

“I knew it was too quiet in here, where did you run off to?” Curly haired hyena number one leans forward as Bee-Bee yips and hops into his lap. Slowly he scratches the dog behind her ears as the Yoshi on the screen stops due to his dropped controller.

The girl; he’ll call her hyena number two for now, sighs before pausing their game. “Poe, come on, how am I supposed to beat Finn if you’re not helping me?”

Hyena number three who is apparently named Finn forces a fake scowl back at her. He gestures at the screen clearly exasperated. “Matt’s the one who’s winning why do you insist on tag teaming me?”

“Because you haven’t had to buy pizza the last three game nights and if I’m to dole out my hard earned cash it will not be before at least an attempt at sabotaging your winning streak,” hyena number two raises both her eyebrows in earnest while Poe and Matt laugh deep and loud. Like hyenas.

Since they’re still bickering between themselves Techie makes the not so subtle dash for that patio. He doesn’t really want to be outside but there are few other options for him at this point. He can feel the eyes trained on him as he lightly closes the door behind him.

The sun has almost finished its descent, a wash of oranges and brilliant reds being swallowed by the blackened horizon. He curls up on the hammock and watches the sky through the leaves. It’s so much more bearable here at night. Though even here, where the houses are spread out from one another there’s still too much light pollution to see the stars.

His phone dings and Techie reaches into his pocket expecting to see a text from Hux. He must have made some sort of ungodly noise because the chatter heard beyond the patio door ceases. At least they can’t see him curled up positively beaming at his phone. He hits the call button immediately, shoving his phone up against his ear.

Two, three rings and a gruff voice answers the other end of the line. “Hello?”

“Where the hell have you been?” Techie tries to keep his voice level. Knows he promised Matt he’d call him on skype to keep from racking up the phone bill but he feels cheated. The relief of Matt actually answering has him slumping back on the hammock, it creaks loudly in protest.

“Out of the country, forgot to buy the add on to my phone plan so I had to keep it on airplane mode,” Matt sounds defensive as he rushes out his words, as if he’s practiced them. Odd. “Look, I’ll call you on skype later and explain, okay?”

Techie huffs in reply. Then he hears the muffled female voice in the background and his insides twist. “Y-yeah, sure.” He’s sure Matt can hear the dejection but it doesn’t matter really. Whatever Matt’s excuse is he doesn’t want to hear it.

Instead of hanging up Matt sighs, the female voice in the room no longer audible. “Tech – I’m sorry, really, I missed you but I have to go.” There’s a beat of a pause, a shout in the background, though Techie isn’t sure if it’s from his end or Matt’s. “I swear if I’m not online later I’ll buy you five years of PlayStation Plus, okay?”

Defeated, Techies gives an annoyed overly dramatic sigh into the receiver. Sounds like Hux doing it but he’s truly exasperated. “Text me?”

“Absolutely, gotta go – _oh!_ And congrats on making placements, I’m proud of you. Talk to you later, bye.” Matt hangs up before he can get a single word in. Probably has to get back to whatever house guest he has over, refuses to think about it. Fixates instead on the four words of praise he’s never heard Matt say before in his life; hadn’t even known proud was in Matt’s vocabulary. His cheeks are blazing scarlet.

The opening of the patio door startles him so badly he has to catch himself from falling sideways out of the hammock. A light clicks on bathing its’ reach in a soft warm glow, revealing Techie blinking owlishly with his phone clutched between two hands.

It’s Matt who’s hovering in the doorway, using a foot to stop an excited Bee-Bee from rushing past him. It takes him a moment for him to spot Techie as he scans the backyard. “Hey man, did you want to come play Mario Kart with us?”

A question like that feels like it’s coming from left field for Techie. He stares at Matt with a crinkled brow, mouth slightly parted. It isn’t until Matt shifts uncomfortably where he’s standing that Techie realizes he’s waiting for an answer. “Oh, uh, thanks but – I’m not great at it.” He’s deflecting, hard. Hasn’t played in years and yet he knows he could wipe the floor with every last one of them.

“That’s alright, Rey’s no good either and we have pizza on the way.” Doesn’t seem like Matt’s willing to take no for an answer. He could stall until Matt gives up but then he’ll just be left waiting out here until Hux allows him entry to his new room. Who knows how long that will take and he is starting to get hungry.

Three rounds of Mario Kart later he finds he doesn’t regret the decision. He’s shown up Matt all three games and the blonde is looking over at him like he’s impressed. Techie doesn’t offer up that he’d grown up on both the SNES and the N64 (which they’re currently playing on). Just juggles both the controller and a slice of pizza while he laps Poe and licks a dribble of marinara at the corner of his mouth.

Rey announces her suspicion that Matt will be buying pizza the next time Techie plays with them. He finds them all less annoying than he first thought, actually enjoying their company. His phone goes off a couple times while they’re playing but he ignores it, if Matt is still trying to defend his reasoning he’ll let him stew in his guilt.

They all take turns to play with only four controllers. Matt and Techie fight tooth and nail for first place; Techie winning more often than not. The actual competition was exhilarating, he’d only ever had Hux as a competitor when he was younger and most of the time Hux spent bashing into walls.

Speaking of Hux, his brother appears once the pizza has been finished and only Matt and Techie have any interest in continuing the game. Poe’s gathering Bee-Bee’s toys off the floor and into a canvas bag when Hux comes to stand behind the couch with his arms crossed over his chest; appearing displeased as always. “Dameron,” he greets sharply looking the other man dead in the eye.

Everyone but Matt and Techie turn from where they’re sitting. Hux’s tone isn’t cold per say but it feels clinical at best.  Pompous – maybe.

“Oh god, Kylo still keeps you around?” Poe raises a brow along with the side of his mouth in a grin.

Hux rolls his eyes, a smirk twitching at the corners of his lips. “So it would seem.”

“Come on guys, let’s go, I don’t like how the crypt keeper here is smiling at me,” Poe laughs leaning down to attach the leash to Bee-Bee’s collar. Rey and Finn hop off the couch in unison and follow behind Poe as he heads for the door. “See you later Matty!” Poe pauses in the hallway glancing back over his shoulder in an afterthought, “was nice to meet you red!”

“His name is Mercy,” Hux mutters but is ignored as Techie sinks further in his seat flushing horribly from the wink Poe has just flashed at him.

“Text me when you’re home!” Matt barks from where he’s sitting, not bothering to take his eyes off the screen. He’s so close to passing Techie that he keeps ramming into his side yet is unable to pass him.

From behind the couch Hux places his hand gently on Techie’s shoulder. It’s an older habit. One Hux hasn’t used in almost a year now, Techie already knows he’s in the room so he doesn’t know why he’s using the gesture made to keep from startling him. “Your room’s all set up besides your electronics which I assume you don’t want Ren to touch.”

There’s more than just the electronics he’d prefer they don’t touch but since half their belongings are still jammed up in perfectly aligned stacks in the corner of the living room he figures there might be no choice in that matter.

“I’ll set them up, thanks.” Techie glances over his shoulder at his brother as Matt pauses the match. Aware that Hux has no intention of leaving them be for whatever reason. Sure, Techie is still a bit wary of Matt’s presence but he’s starting to get comfortable with the familiarity of the game.

“And _the paperwork?_ ” Hux presses and Techie sets his controller down in his lap ready to argue that Hux is being annoying just for the sake of it, which he is, probably.

Turning in his seat Techie levels his brother with _the_ _look_.

“Mercy if you don’t get it sent in soon –“

Kylo cuts him off from the kitchen where he’s appeared out of nowhere. “I sent it in earlier Hux, stop harassing him,” he teases before wrapping his lips around a water bottle and draining it in one go.

Hux sniffs over at Kylo, seeming to grit his teeth only the slightest. Even lets the subject drop for the price of a glare which is costly to Kylo who very well might end up sleeping on the couch if he keeps up the snide remarks.

Feeling cornered, Techie places the controller down on the couch and turns timidly to Matt. “Thanks for the pizza – and asking me to play,” he mumbles it just loud enough for Matt to hear, feeling more than a little shy. He’s not leaving because of Hux; he’s _not_. Just he’s tired and still needs to call his best friend before he passes out for the night.

“Anytime,” Matt makes it sound like a promise. It’s endearing, especially the way his cheeks dimple when he smiles. Techie’s heart flat out throbs at the sight of it and he makes a bolt for his new room, throwing out a thank you to both Hux and Kylo before closing the door behind him.

There are a couple cardboard boxes set up on the bed – a simple thing made of dark wood (and pain apparently for how much cursing he’d heard earlier today). The sheets are, embarrassingly – predictably – star wars themed. He adores them already. The sheets are mostly black with white stars and a large blue death star and tie fighters.

The desk is the same colour as the bed, dark wood and large enough that it takes up the entire wall next to the door. Kylo’s already mounted the TV on the wall for him but the rest has been left up to him. He digs through the boxes to find his promised electronics. Going about setting them up on the desk and hooking them up to the TV which takes a short amount of time for how practiced he is at it. He’s itching to log onto his PlayStation, hoping that Matt might be up for a game or two before Techie passes out cold.

Of course Matt isn’t online. Not a huge surprise considering he had company but it’s enough to make Techie flop back in bed and consider ignoring the trill of Skype from his laptop. Except he doesn’t, he’s too eager to talk to Matt again tonight and hits accept as soon as he scrabbles his way across the room.

They’ve never done a video chat and by now enough time has passed that Techie doesn’t feel obligated for it. He’s perfectly fine with how their relationship has maintained itself.

“Start explaining, or groveling,” Techie demands hovering his mouse over the end call button childishly.

Matt chuckles, the sound of him shifting in his chair bouncing off Techie’s walls until he scrounges up earbuds and shoves them in. “On a scale from one to ten how mad are you really?”

“Twenty, start talking right now before I block you,” Techie snaps back at him.

Not that he would but Matt seems to balk at the mere suggestion. “Oh come on!” Matt huffs noisily into the mic making Techie wince and turn down the volume. “You went AFK right before I had to leave to get on my flight, I tried to call a couple times and like I said I forgot to buy that phone plan. My parent’s cabin is out of signal and Wi-Fi range anyway. Out it butt fuck nowhere in the mountains, surprised no one has gotten eaten by a bear really.”

“Where do your parents even live?” He sounds skeptical and he knows it.

“The cabin’s in British Columbia but they live in Alberta,” Matt supplies like he’s reading from a textbook. He stutters quickly into a clarification. “In Canada in case you didn’t know. Alberta is above Montana and B.C. is above Washington. Anyway, that’s where I was and I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you. Roaming is absolute murder and mom hates it when I’m on my phone. Acts like she isn’t always playing candy crush on her IPad anyway.”

Months of talking and he never would have guessed Matt was originally Canadian. Though he did notice he seemed to skirt around some words like ‘about’ or ‘bag’ which would have been a dead giveaway.

This of course leads to twenty minutes of Techie creatively trying to trick Matt into giving away his accent. Only catching the slightest slip ten minutes in when Matt makes the mistake of saying ‘semi’ with the ‘I’ elongated to sound bizarrely like an ‘E.’ Also the words ‘double double’ and ‘timbit’ were thrown in at some point and Techie couldn’t hope to understand what the hell Matt was talking about.

They easily lapse into normal conversation again. Starting up Minecraft to play something mindless, Techie playing with drooping lids; he doesn’t say it but it’s likely he’ll fall asleep face down on the keyboard.

He moves from the desk back to the bed as a precaution that ends up being inevitable as his chin bobs down to his chest. He isn’t sure when exactly he’s fallen asleep but he’s sure it’s been a good twenty minutes when he wakes again. Matt has booted him from the server but not ended the Skype call. Techie can hear the gentle pluck of Matt’s guitar and sighs happily as he shifts back in his pillows.

“You fell asleep on me Tech,” Matt murmurs softly still playing chords on his acoustic.

Techie’s so tired he doesn’t really want to respond, just wants to sink back into sleep but he doesn’t want Matt to end the call either. “Will you keep playing?” Maybe if he falls asleep like this, with Matt’s voice in his ears, he won’t need his brother’s body curled up next to his. He’ll do anything to make the inescapable separation between them a little easier to choke down.

“If you want me to I will,” Matt replies.

“Please.” The little vulnerability is openly given as he snuggles into his pillow, clutching it to his chest like maybe, in some other universe Matt’s the one he’s clinging to. In the daylight he would banish the thought entirely but here in the light cast only by the white and blue of Skype on his laptop he’ll bare himself all but physically. After a yawn and a light stretch he mumbles a “thanks Matty” into his pillow.

“Anything for you Techie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Techie's Bedding](http://www.thinkgeek.com/images/products/additional/large/jooi_sw_death_star_bedding_comforter.jpg)  
> [Video Matt sends Techie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9uTScSgzrM)  
>  Thank you all for the wait! I hadn't intended for this chapter to evolve into the monster it is but... here we are. Thank you so much to my best friend and Beta for helping me to trudge my way through this chapter!! [Multipurposetoolguy](http://multi-purpose-tool-guy.tumblr.com/) is my saviour 24/7 and I am BLESSED.
> 
> For clarification:  
> \- Matt online calls him Techie  
> \- Matt in person calls him Mercy  
> \- They do not know what one another looks like only the city they live in  
> Though this will get cleared up awfully soon ;)
> 
> References of weird accents taken directly from phone calls with Coral. I will never be able to say 'about' or 'bag' without getting WRECKED by my American friends. A Double Double is 2 creams 2 sugars in a coffee, timbits are donut holes. Apparently us Canadians go by some fucked up terminology according to Americans???
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://droneshard.tumblr.com/)


	3. Push the payload

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twas the night before Nationals when all through the house  
> Not a cpu was stirring, not even a mouse;  
> The cords were hung by the gaming stations with care,  
> In hopes that Kojima soon would be there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asking me to write summaries is asking me for death.
> 
> This was one long chapter that got split in two for your reading pleasure before Christmas!
> 
> (Not serious) TW for sappy gross fluff that I cannot believe I actually wrote

Matt has been suspiciously absent lately. Well… _his_ Matt has, he certainly can’t say the same for Kylo’s roommate.

_Not his Matt_ has been oddly, well, Techie can really only describe it as overbearing at this point. For him it is anyway. There hasn’t been a moment of spare time that he has been able to scrape for himself. Matt has been _everywhere_ ; hogging the bathroom, pacing the hallways, lounging full bodied across the couch. It’s like he’s trying to take up whatever space Techie feels is acceptable for him to occupy. It doesn’t make any sense to him. The bordering flirtatious smiles Kylo’s roommate has been throwing his way are enough for Techie to skirt out of the room at a trot.

 If he’s trying to be friendly then Techie has had quite enough of it after a week. Matt and his hyenas have constantly been hoarding the living area every night much to both Hux and Techie’s chagrin. Kylo of course has nothing to say on the matter.

Whatever it is that the blonde is up to; Techie plans to find out.

After the fifth evening of Matt’s illustrious game of musical chairs (where he switches seats to where ever Techie had previously been before he left the room) Techie finally snaps. He’s been trying to wait this out. But with the combination of being left on ‘read’ by _his Matt_ and the aggravation of _this Matt_ doing whatever the fuck this is he’s lost the docile shyness that comes with his anxiety to be painted over with the blinding red of annoyance.

“Would you _please_ stop taking my spot every time I go to the bathroom?” At least he managed to squeeze some sort of manners in there, though Matt hardly deserves them.

Glancing up from over top of his drooping glasses Matt fixes him with a smirk. He plucks an earbud out of his ear and leans an elbow on the top of the couch to rest his chin in his hand. “What’s wrong, Red? Your ears have gone pink.”

It’s purely reflex that has Techie cupping both ears and scowling at him before slinking back towards the hallway. Abandoning his open and chirping 3DS on the coffee table to die a slow death in his absence; he’ll collect its depleted remains after Matt has gone to bed. Whenever that might be – from what he hears between their shared wall Matt tends to stay up just as late as him, it’s irritating really.

“Shit – Mercy come back!”

Techie pauses with a hand on the wall, pursing his lips angrily. Kylo and Hux have gone who knows where an hour ago and if he doesn’t choose to play nice it could be a long night of Matt blasting the home audio system to whichever Rammstein album he currently has blasting through his earbuds.

Reluctantly Techie turns on his heel and crosses his arms over his chest; petulantly. There’s no Hux here to scold him for his pouting bottom lip and Matt seems to deflate just the slightest as he plucks the other earbud from his ear.

Rubbing a hand through his messy curls Matt gives Techie a once over. “Will you come sit with me?” his voice is closer to pleading than Techie has ever heard it.

Maybe it’s the way Matt’s pouting back at him that has Techie sinking down on the opposite end of the sofa from him. It’s certainly not the glimmer in Matt’s brown eyes that convinces him to release his tightly wound arms from across his chest, not at all.

They consider one another for a while. Techie’s eyes casting to the floor first in defeat, he hasn’t a clue what this could be about.

“You passed for Nationals, right?”

The question takes Techie off guard. “What?”

“ _Nationals_ ,” Matt repeats impatiently. As if Techie is supposed to magically know what the hell he’s talking about. The blonde raises both eyebrows waiting for Techie to either confirm or deny this information. When he only gets a quizzical frown he lets out an annoyed growl and scoots closer to Techie, digging his phone out of his pocket. There’s some discord conversation he quickly exits out of on the screen before showing Techie Blizzards home page where they’re currently advertising the first screenings of worldwide teams that have been formed for the next Overwatch tournament.

Though Techie hasn’t a clue exactly why Matt is asking he nods when Matt glances back up at him. Supplying a shy, “uh, yeah, there are a couple matches tomorrow before finals for team placement.”

Matt frowns back at this clearly unimpressed. Techie’s as lost as he’s ever been. “I know, I’m driving us,” his voice comes out haughty.

“Wait – you’re competing?” Techie gapes at him dumbly.

“ _Obviously!_ I made the team last year.” Matt rightly looks offended. He makes a show of bringing up YouTube and playing a clip from last year’s tournament. His hair is a bit shorter but it’s clearly Matt. The app closes just as a backstage clip shows Matt yelling obscenities in the halls, face flushed red in anger.

Something… niggles. A fact Techie has forgotten that’s _important_ but evidently it’s lost on him.

America hadn’t even made it to the finals last year. They’d dropped out in the semi-finals losing to Korea, if Techie remembers correctly.

This still does not excuse Matt’s strange behavior towards him. “How did you even know I was competing?”

“You do know Kylo is my best friend, right?” There’s a frown tugging at the corners of Matt’s brow Techie wishes he wasn’t the cause of. “We talk and he asked me to take you with me, we’re both going to the same place anyway. Said you could use someone to watch your back; that you needed a friend. You’re being pretty defensive you know.”

Defensive could be accurate but keeping his guard up was important; Hux had taught him that. “ _If_ you want to be my friend then stop doing – all of _this_ , okay?” He gestures to how Matt’s practically leaning on him, leaving the implications of his past annoyances to be mulled over.

Without anything else to say Techie snatches his 3DS from the table and heads back to his room. All he wants to do is curl up in his chair and talk to the one person who doesn’t judge him for how he acts, to _his Matt_. If the bastard is even online; at this rate he’ll text him every two minutes until he is just to find a way to flood the irritation out from under his skin.

“Do you want to practice?” Matt calls over to him, still lounging on the couch and staring at him from over it. “With me, I mean.”

Techie’s fingers are already curled around the doorknob of his room and he glances back over his shoulder feeling something visceral clawing up through his insides. “I already have a partner and he’ll be there tomorrow, I don’t need your pity, thanks.” He shuts the door behind him a little harder than necessary. Fiddles with the lock on the doorknob before sinking into his chair and runs a hand through his greasy hair.

That was… unnecessary. So very unnecessary but he finds he doesn’t care. Matt has been intentionally getting under his skin all week and to what ends? He’s being so very petty, should go apologize but he won’t. Nothing he has done should announce he’s looking for a hand out.

From beyond his locked door he can hear Matt moving things around in the living room before his bedroom door slams shut, it shakes half the house with the force. The video showed Techie all he needed to know – Matt was a hot head with little self-control. And he’ll be stuck with him tomorrow whether he likes it or not; _fantastic_.

There’s something heavy and tinny playing through the wall, Techie rolls his eyes slamming a fist against the wall until his knuckles ache. The volume raises, the base thrumming through the floorboards. “I hope you go deaf!” Techie’s shouts are drowned out by the music.

The noise canceling headphones Hux had bought him last year for Christmas drown out most of it. He can still feel his desk vibrating as he curls his feet up under him in his chair. It’s annoying but he can live with it. He’s sure if he passes some complaint on to Hux it will be dealt with soon after. Not that he wants to. He’s just hurt, who the hell goes around announcing they’ve been begged to make friends? Yeah, he’s not the easiest to get along with but he had hoped Matt might get used to the idea of him being here. Clearly that first night was all for show.

His laptop’s halfway through a forced update that he has to sit through. Matt isn’t on PlayStation at the moment and he’s not inclined to play anything on it without him. So he thumbs through his Spotify to his 8bit playlist and plays Animal Crossing until the update is completed.

He switches his headphones to connect to his laptop as soon as the update finishes. Skype starts up automatically in the background as he’s scrolling through his email.

Finally after fifteen minutes he can no longer hear or feel Matt’s music and he suspects he’s left the house like he often does. Not that he _cares_. Not like he’s contemplating apologizing even though Matt started it by being an asshole.

Skype beeps at him with a popup from an incoming call. He breathes a sigh of relief; it’s Matt, _his Matt_. He hits accept.

“Would you consider being my accomplice to murder?” Matt asks in way of a hello. Techie chuckles under his breath. “No I’m serious Tech.”

The mic cuts in and out slightly jumbling Matt’s words, he fights the compulsion to bark at him to stop mouthing the damn thing. Between the shitty connection and Matt’s bad habit of mouth breathing it’s a wonder they can properly communicate.

“What happened this time?” Not like Techie takes him seriously. He’d once ranted for approximately three hours about some guy that didn’t say thank you after he’d spot for him at the gym. “Or would you like me to guess?”

Matt grumbles. “I –“he sighs loudly (dramatically) into the mic making Techie wince. “My roommate’s tool of a boyfriend is _living_ with us now. He’s just awful Tech, like you have no idea. Yesterday he accused me of ‘abusing the Keurig’ and flipped his fucking lid. Every time I see the guy it’s like Kill Bill sirens are going off when we make eye contact.”

A snort escapes him before he can stifle it. “So are you Uma Thurman or is he?”

“I am obviously, he’s like, Gogo or something,” Matt says.

Techie laughs under his breath, twirling his finger in his hair. “You know I’m just going to tell you that you’re not always the _nicest_ person alive.” Of course that was an understatement. Besides Hux, Matt was probably the rudest person he knew. Neither exhibited those traits towards him of course so he’d always let the subject drop unless it had gone what he had personally considered as too far. (Techie had already informed Hux he was being a snobbish ass to his boyfriend the other morning– Kylo had just laughed and given a knowing smirk before vacating the first floor.)

All he gets in reply is a low grunt.

 

An hour is spent trying to calm Matt down –and Techie, though he doesn’t mention it, he’s still bristling about the whole thing. It’s mostly memes and stupid tumblr posts or reddit threads linked back and forth between one another; just something mindless to do while they ignore the elephant in the room.

Techie’s been needling to ask him and by default he’s been on edge all night because of it. There’s no point skirting around the question, really. In less than twenty four hours he’ll be in the same room as Matt.

 “You have competition tomorrow, right?” His voice holds steady for once but his hands are shaking where they’re rested on his knees.

“Yeah, so do you, right?” Matt’s voice sounds hesitant. “Did your brother get that shit sorted out with you moving?”

Techie holds his breath for no less than thirty seconds before replying. The rush of his inhaled breath sounds a lot like a sigh. “No, someone else took my place. It was something about forfeiting regional eligibility? It’s stupid, he wants to fight it with legal aid but there’s no time now.”

 He already hates himself for the default to dishonesty.

Downright sweating now; he brushes the back of his hand against his forehead. Fuck. He just can’t go into this with Matt knowing he’ll be there. His nerves are already bad enough. What if Matt sees him and instantly hates him? It’s not like they’ll probably ever really meet. Friendships like this were made to stay online. There will be fifty competitors there, chances are they’ll brush right by one another and not even notice.

He barely believes his own reasoning.

 “Oh.” Matt sounds crestfallen and Techie sinks further down in his chair, tugging at the ends of his hair anxiously. “That’s bullshit but I guess it sort of makes sense? But fuck, what a bunch of assholes.”

There’s a little “Mm” of agreement before they both fall silent.

After the interaction Techie scrolls through his Facebook feed, one hand on his mouse and the other leaning against his burning cheek. A notification pops up for a friend request and he hovers over it curiously, reaching beneath his desk to his mini fridge where Hux has (predictably) replaced all of his mountain dew with water bottles. He withdraws one, kicking the door shut with his toes and holding it by the neck as he releases his cheek to twist off the cap.

One Matthew Calrissian has just sent him a friend request.

From the blonde hair and glasses he can see from the little square miniature of a profile picture it’s his best guess that it’s the Matt in the room next to him. Instead of clicking accept he goes to his profile, skimming over tagged photos and friends before clicking on his profile pictures.

He’s at least twelve pictures in when he finds one that makes him take pause. His heart nearly leaps directly up and out of his throat as he stares at the screen dumbly. “ _What?_ ”

“What?” Matt parrots him on the other end of the call and Techie only shakes his head even though Matt cannot see it.

“H-hold on,” Techie shoves off his headphones onto the desk and fishes his phone out of his pocket with fumbling fingers. He has to wait for thirty seconds after putting in his password incorrectly a number of times and when he finally manages to get the damn thing open to hold the screen up directly next to Matt’s profile picture on his computer monitor he’s panting for breath.

It _can’t_ be.

Except it absolutely is – the pictures are the same. He drops his phone onto his desk with a clatter; it bounces off his keyboard before landing somewhere beneath his desk where he leaves it. His jaw is slack, his stomach pulling tight. “ _What the fuck?_ ” He isn’t sure if he’s spoken the words or just mouthed them.

_He – Matt’s – it’s impossible!_

But clearly, with this evidence, it is not impossible. For the photo is the exact same, just less cropped and just as devastating. Matt’s dopy lopsided smile stares back at him, head thrown back in a laugh, eyes squinted. Green coveralls tied at his waist – the same fucking coveralls Techie’s seen him walk around the house in after disappearing a couple hours at a time except now they’re riddled with holes and grease stains. He vaguely recalls a grey heathered shirt tucked in behind a black zipped up hoodie and by the shade and the “ed h” he’d spied  between the gaped zipper it must have read “I need healing.” It’s a pity the dating site had cropped the picture, there are bright orange oranges dotted at the top that add to the scene and Techie finds himself enchanted by the sight despite how tightly coiled his guts feel upon seeing it.

He bangs his head on his desk as he leans down to find his phone.

Matt had messaged him. Matt was **Vaderfanboi91**.

And he was…

…Going to throw up.

The bolt from his room to the bathroom is not graceful, he trips in the hall, bashes the door against the wall behind it and flips up the toilet seat so hard it ricochets and cracks him in the top of the head as he leans over it and gags. The first two heaves are dry, the third he is less lucky.

With trembling fingers he pushes his hair back; it constantly falls into his face as he leans forward.  His cheeks burn and eyes tear as he fights to keep it down.

“Shit, Mercy you okay?”

_No, no, no!_

Techie’s shoulders tremble as Matt settles behind him, carefully gathering his hair back from his face and rubbing a thumb slowly into his shoulder blade. “Shit – it’s alright, I’ve got you, just let it out.”

What he wants is to shove Matt off and lock himself in here for the rest of his life.

As he can’t even stop his body from heaving his contraband meal of poptarts, candy, and mountain dew: he resigns to his fate.

By the time he stops heaving liquid and then dry heaving his face is a mess of tears and snot, which has consequently also, ran down his face. Yet here’s Matt, helping him to his feet and handing him a tissue to blow his nose into while using another to mop up the tears on his cheeks not 30 minutes after Techie had informed him he wasn’t worth the time of day.

“Nerves?” Matt asks, gently, as he leans over the counter to toss the tissue into the garbage bin.

It’s a cop out of telling the truth which has his stomach jolting again; Techie nods.

“Come on then, I know what will help.” Matt tugs him by the shirt sleeve towards his bedroom. The room is dark, lit only by an array of monitors and some tiny delicate fairy lights threaded around the headboard of Matt’s bed. With a soft click the door is shut behind them and Matt urges Techie to sit at the end of his bed.

From his spot he watches over Matt’s shoulder as he leans over his keyboard, ends a skype call and types something into the chat before logging out and closing the window. The screen beside the one he’s currently fiddling with is paused a quarter of the way through some movie with Michael Cera. Matt finishes his fiddling, spins his massive gaming chair around to face Techie and plops down in it, elbows leaned on his knees.

It’s now of all times that Techie notices Matt is bare but for a pair of ratty pajama pants that stop mid calve. At least in the dark his blushing cheeks are less noticeable. His eyes divert to the side, embarrassed as he tucks his hands beneath his armpits and wills himself into something small.

Matt seems to be having none of that however as he slowly tucks a hand around Techie’s wrist, tugs it into Techie’s lap and rubs the underside of said wrist with his thumb. “It’s okay – can I just try something?”

“I – don’t know,” Techie mumbles meekly, biting hard into his bottom lip, eyes fixated on where the ends of his fingertips in his clenched fist twitch against the contact of Matt’s thumb.

Weird as it is, he’s already starting to relax into the touch, even with the knowledge that he’s been crushing on Matt for just less than two weeks. Now, if he looks close, he can’t see past the perfect resemblance and it draws his breath short.

 Little dots of light reflect in Matt’s glasses from the fairy lights, dancing in both the lenses and his iris as he tilts his head just slightly to the side. Techie is bewitched, utterly so.

Suddenly his lips feel dry. He licks at the chapped skin with the tip of his tongue; Matt follows the motion swallowing, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

This pause should be awkward, the silence should be heavy – but it’s not. It reminds Techie so much of _his_ Matt that his chest starts to ache. Really he should excuse himself here and pick back up conversation with his best friend who is probably still waiting for him to respond on Skype in the other room.

Curiosity is getting the better of him though and he waits for Matt to release his hand and divest an explanation.

What he gets is Matt using his free hand to pull an acoustic guitar into his lap from its stand to his right. “I know this is a little weird but just bear with me, okay?” Matt grins up at him shyly. Those god damn fairy lights a permanent gleam in his eyes that makes everything soft and Techie has to cough into his fist to fight off some sort of hysterical laugh that itches to burst from his throat. “You can close your eyes or something if you want just try to relax.”

Slowly, Matt releases his wrists and plucks a couple strings on the guitar before pausing to tune it.

Techie watches fascinated. For all the times he’s listened to _his_ Matt play he hasn’t had the experience to sit down and watch someone play in person. Hux had acquired a cheap ukulele one year from an office secret Santa and it did nothing but gather dust on the top shelf as a deterrent to keep Millicent off said shelf.

A bit more plucking of random notes and Matt shifts in his seat, eyes drifting shut as he strums out an all too familiar tune that has Techie gaping at him.

Of course he plays _this_ song of all songs.

It’s a favored pick of _his_ Matt’s to play. It circulates out of four other songs that Matt’s been playing since they first started talking and he fights to find it a coincidence.

What he expects is to hear a modified acoustic version that follows the songs original tune – instead he gets Matt’s deep voice singing out the lyrics of “I Will Follow You Into The Dark.” It’s too similar to _his_ Matt’s voice coming out of _this_ Matt’s mouth. So close that when he closes his eyes it’s like a clearer, perfected version of the Skype calls he’s fallen asleep during on so many countless occasions. None of _his_ Matt’s stupid mic interference that skip some of the words or makes that awful scratching noise; no, this is perfect.

That isn’t possible, it _can’t_ be.

Techie lies back on Matt’s bed, legs dangling off the edge, his hands folded over his stomach as he stares at the ceiling. There’s not a single sliver of ceiling showing between the posters overlapping the span. Most are Blizzard related, some Skyrim, lots of Star Wars, he thinks he spots some sort of metal poster or two in the left hand corner but it’s hard to tell in the dim light. He closes his eyes again. Vaguely, behind his knee, he can feel the rushed staccato of his pulse.

The last strum rings out against the corners of the room and Techie leans up on his elbows to watch Matt set the guitar back on its stand. “Help at all?” There’s something tinted desperate in Matt’s tone and Techie nods even though he feels even more frayed than before.

“Um, yeah, a-a bit anyway,” Techie says sitting up properly.

Unconvinced Matt pushes his chair to the side and sits down on the bed next to him. “Sorry I – that was probably really weird.” Matt’s shoulders hunch inwards self-consciously and Techie bolts out a hand to hover above Matt’s kneecap, fingertips making hesitant contact.

“I liked it.”

Matt scrubs a hand through his curls, shifting slightly, Techie’s hand now flush to his knee with the adjustment.

“Are you even going to be able to sleep tonight?” Eye contact is not made, Matt’s staring at his set up. The tri-monitors reflect in his glasses.

Truthfully Techie had planned to beg Hux to sleep in his bed tonight not that Matt needs to know that. “Probably a couple hours if I can manage to,” Techie answers honestly enough.

An understanding nod is all Matt gives him. There’s more than a minute of silence before he turns to look Techie in the eye for a moment before picking a spot over his shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut. The lack of eye contact speaks enough for Matt’s own anxiety. Techie can’t place over what until Matt spits out his question, “do you want to watch a movie with me?”

It’s so obvious that Matt’s above and beyond trying to rectify their earlier spat, Techie’s not sure why he’s pushing so hard. He knows what it’s like to desperately want a friend, hadn’t he been that way for _his_ Matt? He stops himself in his track, shaking his head. His eyes widen as Matt’s clearly seen the shake and he stumbles to correct it. “Sorry, um, yeah I’d like that if you’re sure?”

He hopes Matt will state he’s changed his mind but he doesn’t.

Instead they both decide to restart whatever movie Matt had paused. It’s Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. Techie admits to never having had seen it and Matt gives a brief run down before presenting it as a “Canadian classic.”

Techie frowns back at him skeptically, “a Canadian classic, really?”

“Well… No, but it’s one of my favourites and I grew up around Toronto so it’s a bit nostalgic,” Matt shrugs with a laugh. They’re sitting shoulder to shoulder against the headboard of the bed. There’s approximately ten pillows smooshed up in a mountain behind them and the way they’re layered makes Techie shift slightly into Matt.

“You’re Canadian?” Techie balks at him. But… _his_ Matt. _What the fuck_.

Matt grimaces at him, “dual citizenship but I swear to god if you start saying ‘eh’ or ‘hoser’ you can go back to your own room and I’ll blast Rammstein loud enough you feel the vibrations during competition tomorrow.”

“Noted.”

Half an hour into the movie Techie startles as Matt yawns and flings an arm back around his shoulders. He cannot believe Matt’s just pulled a yawn-and-reach. He sits there stiffly trying to ignore the warm weight of the arm tucked around him, unsure if it would be blatantly rude to ask Matt to keep his appendages to himself.

But time drags on and the weight becomes comfortable and his eyelids begin to droop as they often do. He tucks further into Matt’s shoulder, sinking down into the bedding until his head is rested on Matt’s chest and he’s fighting to stay awake. He hasn’t a clue what the hell is happening in the movie, Michael Cera is getting his ass handed to him and he finds himself shutting his eyes the briefest of moments.

He swears he feels a pair of lips press to his forehead before he falls asleep.

When he wakes up the room is dark except for the fairy lights above him on the headboard. He blinks up at them blearily, disoriented. There’s the heavy weight of Matt’s arm curled around his side keeping Techie firm against him. He’s managed to leave a wet patch of drool on the blanket covering Matt’s chest.

Matt’s fallen asleep with his glasses slipping down his nose, snuffling out little snores. Eyelids twitching as his eyes roam back and forth behind their shut lids. The monitors have all turned dark and Matt’s computer hums softly, its fan creating a peaceful lull.

Techie gently slips Matt’s glasses off his face and struggles to set them the nightstand behind him. It’s a feat considering the man’s grip on him.

If he stays, in the morning they’ll both wake embarrassed. Really, it would be better for Techie to slip into his own bed and risk not falling back to sleep. Plus if Hux comes to check on him in the morning and he isn’t there – Matt might be playing with broken fingers if he’s seen slipping out. It’s just better this way.

Years of practice slipping out of Hux’s hold have prepared him for the way Matt clings to him. Two minutes later he’s already tugged the covers back up over Matt and slipped through his own bedroom door, closing it silently behind him.

His laptop and monitors greet him with a fury of bubbles across their surface. He gives his mouse a light shake to see that Skype is flashing with a message from Matt. He’s ended the call and typed out a brief message: _sorry something came up, don’t wait up for me tonight I’ll text you tomorrow._ The call had been ended just seconds before the message was sent. Techie stares at the timestamp, breath shallow in his throat. Matt was offline. Matt never signed out of Skype, ever, even when he went to bloody Canada he’d only left his status as away.

He stares at the wall separating his and Matt’s rooms.

The time matches up. It matches and all the little bits and pieces he knows about Matt are starting to form into what he already knows. Right now, at this very moment, his _best friend_ is sleeping in bed with a recently vacated warm spot his shape and size with a patch of drool on the duvet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were not in physical pain from this fluff I apologise and will offer you a full refund. I cringed just rereading it to edit. But it has been done so...
> 
> I'll be going on **Hiatus until February 2018** due to this insane time of year  
> I hope you all have happy holidays!
> 
> Feel free to scream at me on tumblr if you so please: [Droneshard](http://droneshard.tumblr.com/)


	4. Damage Boost Engaged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an unexpected night that revealed Matt was in fact Techies long distance best friend things become more awkward between the two as they're thrust into qualifying competitions against one another. Techie's little white lies finally catch up to him among... other things.
> 
> Disclaimer - My dumbass did not look into overwatch league before hand so I have and will continue to BULLSHIT my way through, I'm aware it is -8000% accuracy but... here we are
> 
> Chapter warnings: Slight physical as well as mental abuse, brief mention of homophobia (*see end notes for details)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyyy it's been way too long and I wanted to finish writing the NEXT chapter so I could get two up in a row but my Microsoft Word isn't saving anything so this is posted in F E A R. No beta on this one (whoops I flung this up here without warning so) All mistakes are my own, please feel free to point them out (nicely please I am fragile). Here's this heap of a mess that these boys have created! It just gets more angsty from here folks!
> 
> (Also a very VERY delayed Happy Birthday to both Christine and Courtney <3 this should have been up before both of your birthdays so please enjoy it months later lol)

6am arrives in the form of Hux. As in he’s just woken Techie from some sort of half sleep as he flips on the overhead light and starts to tug away Techie’s perfectly formed blanket burrito. There’s not even any coffee set on the nightstand as a peace offering. Hux has come into his bedroom offering war.

“ _Armie!_ ” Techie whines shuffling away from his brother’s cold hands that have breached the blankets barrier. “Go away!”

“Ow! Stop kicking – Mercy –“

It’s how Hux ends up flat on his ass toppled off the side of the bed. Matt and Kylo both crowd curiously in the doorway drawn by Hux’s cursing. “Tech, I swear to god if you don’t get out of bed right now –“

The pillow turned projectile sails over Hux and out into the hall narrowly missing Kylo as it skids clear into the bathroom. It sends poor Millie scrambling up the stairs in a blur.  

Techie has returned to full burrito. Only the top of his head peeks out from beneath the covers. His voice is muffled, barely audible but by Hux’s huff he knows he’s heard him, “Armie you’re a complete _ass_ first thing in the morning.”

Hux pinches the bridge of his nose, turning to glare at their spectators. “Ren; go start the Keurig.” It’s meant to be dismissive.

“Say please!” Techie barks and Hux rolls his eyes but does just that.

Techie can practically hear the Kill Bill sirens resounding as he rolls over to find Hux and Matt glaring at one another. “Oh my god, shut the door and go fight outside,” he levels them both with a scowl before shoving his pillow over his head.

“Wow,” Matt quips, stepping aside for Hux to barrel angrily past him. To his credit he shuts the door gently before the two start rowing on one another. Techie hasn’t the slightest clue what they could be squabbling about first thing in the morning. There’s no way Hux had caught them.

Caught them; as if there’s actually something he should be guilty for. Still, the knot in his stomach has persisted since last night. This isn’t something he wants to deal with, especially not right before a competition. If he can’t keep his head in the game it will cost him.

A tentative knock comes a couple minutes later. Hux and Matt are still spatting, loudly, when Kylo sets Techies preferred 6 sugars 3 cream coffee on his night stand.

“Thank you,” Techie manages to murmur into the cup, half glugging the contents as he rubs a fist into his eye socket. Something about the humidity is driving his eyes mad; they’ve been itchy and inflamed, he might have to switch to glasses for the competition.

Kylo just nods, about to duck out of the room before Techie calls him back. He stares into his mug as Kylo shuts the door and sits at the end of his bed. “Do you think they’ll ever get along?”

There’s a stagnant pause as they both listen to the muffled voices on the other side of the door before Kylo sighs, scratches the nape of his neck before glancing back over at Techie. “No,” Kylo says it with a smirk still, it appears, half asleep himself. “Hux is an acquired taste, just like Matt. I doubt they’ll be much more than civil at this point.”

The mug is clutched warm against his chest as Techie pouts into it. “Oh.”

“But I’m sure they’ll both make amends for you,” Kylo winks before dragging himself to his feet and lets himself out. Apparently he’s as quiet as he is observant.

The raised voices seem to die at Kylo’s arrival but it prompts Hux’s return. There’s no knock as the door is pushed open and his brother leans testily against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. “Next time open with coffee,” Techie glares over the rim of his mug blearily. It’s hard to make out Hux’s exact expression without the aid of corrective eyewear but he’s certain he’s frowning or scowling or some combination of the two.

“Come eat breakfast, you still need to shower before I let you loose with that _hooligan_ ,” Hux glances over his shoulder with a scowl to match Techie’s own.

“His name is Matt,” Techie offers with a snip, taking a finishing gulp of his coffee before slinking out of bed with the duvet clutched around his throat like an ill-fitting cape. His mug is shoved into Hux’s crossed arms before he marches into the kitchen and curls up in his seat, excess blanket spilling around him.

Hux follows dutifully after him, slipping the mug back over the Keurig’s raised platform and waits for the water to boil. He eyes the three men suspiciously; visually tracking the trade route of a poptart wrapper being shoved into Kylo’s hoodie pocket followed by the snatch and grab as Techie shoves the contraband breakfast sweet into his mouth, cheeks puffing out like a squirrel.  It’s all Hux can do to keep from rolling up the discarded mail next to him and smacking them both over the nose. “ _Ren_ ,” he warns with raised brows and the other man has the gall to appear sheepish.

On the other hand Techie is caught mid reach for the second poptart Kylo has been holding for him beneath the table, Hux now looming over his shoulder with Techie’s refilled mug. It’s absolutely tactless how Techie snatches the pastry and engulfs it entirely in one go; Hux wrinkles his nose in disgust as Techie beams up at him smugly lips full of crumbs that he wipes away with the back of his hand before reaching out to accept said coffee.

“Mercy that is truly disgusting,” Hux scolds before turning to flick Kylo in the nose with a pointed glare. “Stop enabling him Ren, he’s going to be malnourished if you keep buying him that garbage.”

Kylo simply rolls his eyes and gives Hux’s ass a hard pinch as he turns away. A piercing glare follows him as he trudges back upstairs and out of sight before Hux has the chance to go off on him.

At the other end of the table Matt is fiddling with his phone in near silence. The side of his cheek sucked and gnawed between his molars if the little indent in his cheek is any indication. Techie watches him from behind his coffee with squinting eyes attempting to properly make up his blurry form. Two minutes of this and he slinks off back to his bedroom only to return with the tortoise shell glasses he can no longer stand; they dig uncomfortably into the bridge of his nose as he slots them in place.

After last night’s… whatever that was Techie can’t even begin to fathom what’s on the blonde’s mind. So he rests his chin in his hand and does his best to appear like he’s either fallen asleep or staring at a spot over Matt’s shoulder.

In truth Techie had slept longer in Matt’s bed than he had in his own. He’d tossed and turned a handful of hours until he could no longer keep his eyes open to stare at the wall separating their two rooms.  He isn’t sure exactly what he should do. It feels unfair to keep the realization from Matt but on the one in a million chance he’s wrong? Techie opens his mouth to start asking mundane questions only for his jaw to lock shut as Matt glances up from his phone at him.

“Sleep okay?” Matt asks a glint in his eye as he sets his phone face down on the table top.

Techie nods, the corner of his lip turning up as he stares down into his coffee to keep from barking out a nervous laugh. He settles with “yeah – I – yeah, thanks” before he’s taking a large gulp of the over hot beverage to keep whatever tell his facial expression might give to Hux who is taking a budding interested in their conversation. His cheeks must be some shade of crimson by this point; he tries to hide it with his hair.

On queue Hux sits in the seat between them both. “You need to eat something else; _something healthy_ ,” he starts only for Techie to slouch in his seat and groan. “ _Techie_.”

Matt freezes in place; halfway up from his scurry away from what is mounting up to be more than a little awkward. His brow creases as he stares between Hux and Techie. “What did you just call him?”

Hux swivels in his seat. Just like Hux, always ready to defend his quivering little brother. The quivering part now true with how Techie has gone wide eyed with unease. “ _Techie_ – my nickname for him,” Hux sounds out the two syllables of the pet name slowly, condescending at best and Techie thinks he might just faint.

There are a few awkward moments of silence before Matt nods and stands properly from his seat. “I thought you said Trekkie, this is a Star Wars household, I’m sure you understand my concern.”

Not finding it funny, Hux rolls his eyes and turns back to Techie to start listing off possible food options. Somehow he doesn’t seem to find the interaction odd in the slightest. But Techie notices.

There’s no way he could miss how Matt’s eyes linger on him until he’s out of sight headed down the hall.

Whatever appetite he’d had left vanishes. Despite Hux’s badgering he blames the disappearance on nerves and slinks his way out of the debate with the excuse of taking a shower.

The shower runs as cold as he can manage and he scrubs at his greasy hair something close to furiously. He can’t _read_ people – that was Hux’s gift. Give him a keyboard and internet access and he could manage just about anything; to that extent he seriously considers tracking Matt’s IP address, just to make absolutely sure. It’s the sliver of doubt that he holds onto. Couldn’t Matt just do the same? Matt would know he was a liar then, would know he was keeping secrets and that just made everything worse. But Matt already fucking knows because Hux had to go and be _sentimental_. He can’t blame his brother for this mess he’s created.

He pulls on the slightly oversized t-shirt he’d been sent via UPS last week along with a pair of khaki cargo shorts. Throws his hair up into a messy bun and begrudgingly slips his glasses back up his nose. He tucks in the few bobby pins Millicent hasn’t managed to steal up into the little hairs at the back of his neck before heading out into the living room to wait for Matt.

_Snap snap snap_

The spare hair elastic twangs against his wrist as he fiddles with it nervously. His fidgeting works his wrist up to a rosy hue before Matt appears from around the corner and the hair tie is held taut as Techie stares up at him, cheeks colouring. Their matching t-shirt clings to his broad chest, the overwatch logo stretched over muscle in something so tight the white base layer might as well be translucent.

“They sent me a size too small,” Matt mutters irritably; Techie nods without stating his disagreement. Just hops off the couch and follows at Matt’s heels out to the garage.

Something is pinched in Matt’s expression, his hands fisted around his keys until they’re knuckle white. Techie suspects he knows exactly what from but wisely keeps his mouth shut. Only offering a hurried nod as Matt unlocks his beaten up Toyota Crossover with the key fob and slides down into his seat.

The passenger side floor has a fine layer of garbage coating where he presumes the floor mat resides underneath. He shuffles a red bull can to the side noisily, shrinking as Matt frowns over at him. He’s not about to complain but it would benefit his nerves greatly if Matt would just take a minute to _breathe_. Saying as much would more than likely have him slinking back into the house to explain to Hux how he has lost his means of transportation.

After a moment of glowering Matt starts up the car and rips out of the garage – just barely clearing the still opening garage door in the process.

Matt and Kylo apparently have more than one thing in common. For one they both drive like absolute fucking lunatics. Techie needs to get his driver’s license if only so that he can keep his sanity intact, he’s not sure how much more of this he can stand. He’ll take lessons. There is no way in hell he’s going to ask Hux or Kylo to teach him, neither are patient enough for his hesitance. Matt might if he can ever forgive him.

Matt has to know by now. The thought has to at least be niggling at the back of his skull; something small but sharp and vibrant – impossible to ignore for more than a couple moments at a time. Hell it’s exactly that in Techie’s own head.

“So this partner of yours, what are they like?” Matt doesn’t take his eyes off the road, glaring through his prescription sunglasses at the stretch before them. The question already has Techie’s palms sweating.

Sadly flinging open the car door and barrel rolling out onto the pavement is not an option here.

Techie turns in his seat, cataloguing Matt’s less than relaxed posture. Rubs a finger along his bottom lip as he fights his panic for some way to derail the conversation; how would he even begin to describe Matt _to_ Matt? “He’s kind of an idiot,” Techie blurts out instead before stuttering into a back track, “I mean – only sometimes but he’s just… great.” He falls silent, curling up further in his seat, resting his forehead against the windowpane suddenly feeling nauseous.

Ever since he climbed into the car Matt’s been giving off a hostile vibe. Techie isn’t sure what to think of it. He isn’t sure what to think about last night let alone now so he changes tact. “Matt – about last night –“he cuts off as Matt finally glances over at him.

“ _What about it?_ ” The way he says it makes Techie shrink; like it’s a challenge that Matt’s daring him to back down from.

Back down he does. He mumbles a put out “ _never mind_ ” before turning to stare out the window.

Despite the music humming softly the car feels too quiet. Whatever Matt has playing is slow and almost sweet – so unlike what Techie has come to know him as in person and so much more like the man he’s built himself up to be online; last night having been the exception. He can still hear the ghost of Matt’s baritone voice ringing in his ears.

That Matt, the one from last night is not the one sitting next to him in the driver’s seat. There are so many faces of this man that he knows without a shadow of a doubt. This one is new. There’s something bubbling up from the pores of his skin, invisible and gaseous that is slowly and steadily choking down Techie’s throat. He’s never known what it would be like to be on the receiving end of Matt’s bad mood until now.

On the other side of a screen he knows how to fix this. Watching him from the passenger seat however, he’s at a loss.

He stares at the home screen of his phone, flicks open apps before immediately closing them; just for an excuse to slump down in his seat and stay quiet. Not the best conflict resolution but it will do. Matt seems just fine with the lull in conversation as he dials up the music a few notches, throws his hand at the top of the wheel and rests his forearm against the window ledge.

They roll up to the Blizzard Arena a whole fifteen minutes later. The drive, by Techie’s standards, is too short to even get the perimeters of his jumbled thoughts in order. He follows Matt’s heels all the way inside. Watches as Matt hands off both their paperwork and stands there dumbly by his side; anxiety already clawing its way up his throat. He can’t even find the energy to be annoyed that Hux hadn’t trusted him with his own paperwork.

He fiddles nervously with a strand of hair that has come loose from his bun; twisting and curling it around his finger. It’s a great distraction – until Matt changes his sunglasses back to his usual black framed lenses and he can see the man’s disapproving gaze. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, tries to think of the mature version of sticking out his tongue at him and comes up with nothing.

They follow a staff member that guides them to a conference room.

Techie slides down into the seat next to Matt’s numbly. Mind running frantic; the steady staccato of anxiety rising up from the bottom of his ribs to his lungs and constricts. He breathes out slowly, squeezes his eyes shut but the titter of nerves refuses to release him. He suddenly can’t seem to recall if he’s taken his medication today. Hux usually shoves the pill capsule into his line of sight first thing in the morning but for the life of him he can’t seem to recall. _If he had his bag_ – but he doesn’t, it’s back at the house sitting on the couch where he left it.

It’s too late now anyways. Matt’s gaze cards over him and Techie slumps further in his seat gripping at his elbows and grinding his teeth. He will not let this get the better of him he’ll just take the damn things when he’s home and pretend that he can make it through this without them.

He’s only dimly aware of their surroundings. There are too many people and with the dull rumble of conversation he can’t seem to grasp at any one thing. Instead he stares fixatedly at where the tip of his yellow converse are settled just so against the side of Matt’s beaten up Nikes. His body seeking contact with Matt’s without his consent.

In turn when he finally glances up and over Matt’s eyes are on him; has probably been watching him the whole bloody time trying to get his shit together. The blonde’s expression has relaxed.

They watch one another a short while, the rest of the room seeming to dim. The tension is still there; strung so tight the ends threaten to snap. Uncomfortable wouldn’t quite be the right word to describe it. They’re saved only by the dimming of the overheard lights and a projector whirring to life on the far wall.

For Techie it’s all a blur. He can’t seem to shut his mind off – the voice nuzzled at the back of his head hissing insecurities that won’t be ignored. He tugs his arms closer to his chest, sinks further in his seat and stares ahead at the images flashing on the screen ahead of them.

 

The short fifteen minute intermission before matches start is something Techie could have gone without. He snags a water bottle and sinks into a heap back into his seat. In retrospect he could be mingling, boosting his ego with the rest of the competitors but he’s already drained as it is. From his seat he can see the top of Matt’s head worming its way through the crowd towards the refreshments – beyond that even lays the screen displaying everyone’s screen names. His gut twists sharply and he tries to soothe it with a gulp of water.

He’d been stupid to think he’d get out of this unscathed; first this morning and now – _this_.

There’s no way he can fib himself a way scot-free. Not with the evidence printed in size 48 font slotted right below Matt’s own. Maybe he’d figured they’d be assigned numbers, first names, or _something_. Yet when he squints hard and his vision starts to tear at the edges the quick slants of font come just that slight bit into focus and he can read his personal screen name. The very same he’s been using for just about every platform for years. The one he’s been using the past year to communicate with Matt.

With a thump he rests his forehead against the table.

No need to track an IP address now. The evidence is right there in front of them and Matt is staring right up at it. The can of redbull he’s currently holding (crushing) crinkles between his fingers too loud even through the din of voices. Techie swallows thickly.

“Fuck.”

 

As if the day hasn’t been bad enough the seat he’s been assigned is right next to Matt’s. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, shuts his eyes as he lets out a steady exhale. All it does is make him light headed.

Matt’s shoulder jostles his as the man takes his seat. The chair is far too small for his oversized limbs and Techie turns his head to scan the rest of the room to keep from staring like he’d prefer to. He’s oversensitive to every little thing that Matt’s doing next to him; the click of his mouse, the exhale of a sigh, the little _tap-tap_ of his heel bouncing against the floor. It’s driving Techie absolutely _mental._

That’s not what he’s here for. He isn’t here for Matt; he’s here to compete and to _win_ this stupid competition.

To his immense relief the first few matches he plays are neither with nor against Matt. He breezes through them with little complaint. Does better than he expects to without Matt’s voice screaming in his ear; makes him realize just how much they both tend to rely on one another’s abilities.

It’s at the end stretch of the matches – already two hours in when they’re on opposite teams. He wonders vaguely if there’s any rhyme or reason to the team setup. There are 50 and some odd competitors in the room with them, only a matter of time. The next match they might be on the same team and the familiarity of it will break him.

They share a look.

Just a quick glance (nothing that makes Techie’s toes curl in his shoes and his stomach drop 80 stories – _nothing of the sort_ ). Techie swallows thickly, quickly wipes the sweat of his palm on his shorts. He doesn’t want to go up against Matt. They know one another’s every move and Techie’s at a **_serious_** disadvantage playing as a support hero.

But once they’re in game it immediately becomes obvious that Matt is avoiding interacting with him at all. Techie takes him out twice with absolutely no retaliation and if Matt doesn’t start getting his act together it will cost him.

Techie wants to elbow him sharply in the ribs but there are eyes everywhere here so he settles for kicking Matt’s shin with more force than necessary. He keeps his glare focused on his screen, speaks through his clenched teeth just loud enough that he knows Matt will hear him through his headphones (ensures not to push to talk) “what the fuck are you doing – _focus_ – we both know you’re better than this.”

Despite his own subtlety Matt gawks at him openly until Techie gives him another kick. The retaliating kick he receives is gentle in comparison, more of a graze than anything, but it gets him the results he’s after. Matt seems to do some sort of mental jog – he can hear him let out a slow breath and he instantly switches tactics. He’s no longer playing defensive and meek but calculated and aggressive. It’s exactly what his team needs and their last push is victorious.

The movement of Matt pushing his headphones from his ears and around his neck catches at the corner of Techie’s eye and he almost turns to face him. But they’re not technically talking right now and anyway they’re competing. Techie doesn’t have the time to spare to dote upon Matt and his insecurities. He’s already helped him too much as it is. He needs to get his own head in the game otherwise his fondness for Matt is going to sabotage his chances of making the team.

 

“Matt – _come on_ I’m not babysitting you all match either take care of the widow or I’ll ignore your spamming and not rez you.” He won’t ignore him; he’s physically incapable of that at this point but he’s not about to drag dead weight.

He already has his hands full trying to keep both of their tanks healed not to mention the Junkrat that seems to have a death wish for how often they keep trying to backdoor the point when it’s fully manned. Playing support is truly the equivalent of taking care of 5 inept toddlers.

At the right hand corner he watches the little icons signaling that Matt has been taken out by the Widowmaker _again_.

There’s no way he can waste his resurrect as much as he’d like to. They’re struggling hard over the point as it is – neck and neck with the other team. The rest of the team needs him to have their backs.

Guiltily he runs right past the yellow orb that would allow him to revive Matt. As an afterthought he runs the side of his foot up along Matt’s calf – rucking Matt’s jeans up towards his knee in the process. Through the headset Matt coughs over some strangled sound that goes ignored over the ping of warnings and muttered “Doomfist back right.”

Somehow, by some miracle they end up victorious after 3 grueling matches.  

He takes the time to glance to the side as personal stats flash across the screen and to his surprise Matt is fighting to suppress some sort of emotion by biting down into his lower lip. The skin is puffed and raw as if he’s had it between his teeth the majority of the afternoon. Matt looks up and Techie hurriedly fixes his stare back on his screen where it belongs.

 

By miracle of Matt’s dwindling self-restraint the only snip he hears on the way back to the car is a shorthanded “guess you never saw your friend.”

It pierces. Techie leans against the passenger side door as Matt slides in and starts up the engine. He half thinks Matt might leave him here but the window rolls down and Matt simply barks at him to get in.

If the ride to the arena was uncomfortable then the ride back is double that. The current in the air is crackling waiting for the spark of a comment to ignite the unsteady thing between them. He wants to apologize. That isn’t going to do shit though, he knows Matt well enough to know an apology is better left in the dust.

So they ride it out. They’ll continue to ride it out until one of them breaks – Techie’s sure it’ll be him. He already can’t stand the way Matt’s ire is flipping his organs into a twisted heap. Much more of this and he’ll be confessing to much more than he’s willing to give away. That those nights where Hux was home late he’d been comforted by the thought of Matt’s deep voice crackling over his mic – that maybe there was something so much more to the hours they spent texting and skyping.

Matt doesn’t even wait for Techie to unbuckle his seatbelt before he’s bustling into the house. It takes Techie a full seven minutes before he’s wrangled his breathing under control enough to untangle himself from his seatbelt and leave the garage.

He intends to head straight for his room. He’s already on the cusp of tears and if Hux sees him this way there will be _questions_ and _prying_.

Nothing today is going right and a simple dash from the garage to his room is stacked into that category immediately.

“Techie,” Hux levels from where he’s propped up against Kylo’s side where they’re lounged on the couch. It’s very well the most relaxed Techie has ever seen his brother in his entire twenty four years.

Politely Techie nods at them both before continuing his (now forced) slow pace towards his bedroom. “Come here a moment.” Hux squirms out from under Kylo’s arm to pat the couch cushion next to him. Normally Techie would throw himself down next to his brother and squirrel his way into his embrace but today has changed things. “Tech – what’s wrong?”

With a shake of his head Techie perches on the edge of the cushion, knee just brushing Hux’s shin where he’s sat cross legged.

Hux opens his mouth to start what Techie knows will be an absolute barrage of meddling inquiries. To his surprise Kylo mutters a scolding ‘ _Hux_ ’ and his brother snaps his lips shut with a wrinkle of his nose.

“I’m tired, Armie,” Techie mumbles, leans forward to rest his forearms on his knees.

A warm hand rubs circles into his shoulders as Hux shuffles up beside him. The action is familiar and Techie melts back into Hux’s touch with ease. Briefly he considers bringing up his predicament to them both but that would mean admitting he’d been stupid enough to lie to Matt in the first place. Hux would be unimpressed; he’s not sure what Kylo might think of it all.

After a while Hux presses a kiss into the side of Techie’s head and sinks back against Kylo. Figuring it as a dismissal Techie heads back to his room only to pause as Hux once again calls back for him. “Go take a nap but we’re kicking the two of you out for a couple hours at six,” Hux instructs firmly. Techie can guess for what and frowns back at the two of them before shutting himself firmly behind his bedroom door.

To his surprise after curling up in bed and shutting his eyes he passes out almost immediately. Millie joins him at some point, guesses Hux lets her in once he’s sick of her clawing at his door. She’s an orange tuff tucked warm under his chin. Still purring steadily when a knock is followed by the door opening. He peaks up at the intruder through squinting eyes.

“Time to get up.” With such a soft voice he could almost guess it was Kylo but he knows the light from the doorway hasn’t magically turned Kylo’s dark locks blonde. He almost rolls over stubbornly but he knows Hux will wrench him out of bed by his ankles if he tries to ignore their banishment. Instead he grumbles and smooshes his face into Millie’s soft fur until he’s breathed in at least a small kitten’s worth of hair up his nostrils.

“Coming.”

 

 

As instructed he sits down on the concrete retainer, slipping out his phone for something to do. Matt makes a beeline for the food truck and Techie can’t help the fond little ache his heart gives when Matt smiles down at his phone. The discord app has a little orange one over its right hand corner and he just doesn’t have the heart to open it right now; the message is from Matt, he doesn’t have anyone else added on there.

Instead he flicks open the dating app. There are a couple new messages, in particular stands out the message from **Vaderfanboi91**. He feels worn thin just seeing that Matt had messaged him. If he was a good person, not this anxious mess of a goblin that he is he’d message him and spill the beans. But he was born with faulty wiring so he clicks on the message, seeing that the little green dot next to his username at the top of the chat deems he’s online and glances up to find Matt with phone still in hand.

**Vaderfanboi91:** Hey, if ur free we could play?

Message time stamped 2 hours ago.

Three little dots start their animation at the bottom of the chat.

**Vaderfanboi91:** I would love 2 take u out sometime if ur interested? Like on a date?

Techie drops his phone in his haste to close the app as if it will somehow keep it from being marked as read. It lands face down on the concrete and has a crack in the middle of the screen when he picks it up. “ _Fuck_ ,” he sighs peering over it. The screen isn’t responsive to touch, his background image warped beyond the deep sliver running down and spider webbing out. He shoves his phone back into his pocket, feeling more lost than ever without it to hide behind. Matt will still be in line another while and he doesn’t want to crowd him when he’s been asked to sit and wait. So he shoves his hands in his pockets and tries not to be completely obvious that he’s watching Matt, or staring rather.

He jiggles his knee as he leans back into the chain link fence behind him. So utterly consumed by the back of Matt’s blonde head and his inner conflict that he doesn’t notice the fence shifting as someone sits beside him.

It’s the familiarity of the action, the slight prick of fingertips wrapping around the inside of his wrist in a too cold grasp that roots him to the spot, eyes casting down. There’s no scream building in his throat, no compulsion to run because he’s already been caught and he hasn’t been able to outrun her yet. Their hands hidden in his sweater pocket, out of sight of onlookers as her nails prick into the blue veins beneath his wrist like she might squeeze hard enough to sever them.

“William,” her tone is chastising; he flinches. “You have no idea what I’ve gone through just to find you.”

“I’m –“He’s cut off by the vicious pinch of her nails. Glancing to the side to face her is a mistake, his stomach coils as he takes in the anger reflected in her blue eyes. “Ma, _please_.”

She soothes her opposite hand down his cheek, wiping away the tear trailing down it. “I know _darling_.” The way she curls her words feels acidic. “Armitage just cannot stand to have me near you. After all that I’ve done for that ungrateful boy.”

Techie just nods, it’s all he can do to keep her placated. He knows why she’s here – what she wants and it’s not just to lure him away from his brother and back into her web.

From the corner of his eye he can see that Matt’s made his way to the front of the line. He won’t call for him, _he can’t_. But if he just turns around to find Techie crowded with his stepmother’s body practically hovering over his he might be saved.

Maratelle follows his stare.

Time slows as the cruel smirk tugs at the side of her lip. Because of course, Techie has just given her something she needs to dig her roots back in. He can feel the blood beginning to drain from his cheeks, mouth popping open in preparation to plead like he had when he was little for her not to take away his favourite toy. “Mama, _please_ ,” he turns his body to face her, boldly reaching for her other hand, like he might be able to stop whatever she has planned just by clinging desperately to her cold flesh.

She ‘tsks’ low in her throat; it cuts deep like a knife as he shrinks under her raised brow. He releases her hand as if burned, slumping further forward as meek prey. “What would your father think?”

“ _It’s not like that_ ,” Techie rushes out in a whine.

Her nails pinch harder into his skin and he winces. There are tears in his eyes again, his nose has begun to run and he sniffles pathetically. She pats his knee condescendingly. “You know how I feel about you lying to me.”

His head dips until his chin is pressed to his chest. She’ll scold him for it but it’s the only way he can use his hair to hide the tendon jumping in his jaw.

From her purse she takes out a business card, slipping it into the hand she’s holding in a vice. “You are going to call me on this number and we are going to keep it our _little_ _secret_ , do you understand?” She releases him only after he’s spat out a weak ‘yes.’ Her claws detracting around his now aching wrist, the business card is crushed in his clenched fist.

“Mercy?”

Techie glances up, cheeks flooding with heat as Matt approaches them. Wisely, he keeps his mouth shut, allowing Maratelle to lay a hand on his shoulder and squeeze just a fraction too hard. “I’m sorry darling; I’ll leave you be thank you for chatting with me.”

Maratelle shines an entirely fake smile and Matt’s shoulders seem to settle as he deems her not a threat. “You two love birds have a good night.” The click of her heels echo all the way to the end of the block, Techie stares after her before Matt sits down next to him blocking his view.

“Who was that?” Matt places one of two Styrofoam containers in Techie’s lap. The heat radiates down into his sweat pants, his hands clasping around it to warm his now freezing hands.

Techie shrugs. “She said I reminded her of her son,” his voice shakes just slightly but there’s enough bustle on the busy street that Matt doesn’t seem to notice. It’s dark enough tucked up against the fence that Matt won’t be able to see the tear trails down his cheeks. The moment Matt starts to dig deeper and push Techie will tell him everything.

That cannot happen. If Hux finds out Maratelle has tracked him down here then they’ll be picking up and leaving without another word. There will be no arguments; Hux will up and move them no questions asked. He watches as Matt flips open his container, stirring around his noodles with his fork before slurping up a mouthful, sauce dribbling down his chin.

The pang returns so painful he almost doubles over. He can’t leave now, _he won’t_.

“Eat before it gets cold,” Matt says around a mouthful of noodles and Techie mechanically follows the request.

Matt shifts, his shoulder and thigh flush against Techie’s. It’s comforting; enough so that Techie can calm down and register the taste of what he’s currently picking at. He’s lost his appetite completely but this is the closest thing to a date that he’s ever been on and Matt has been in sour mood today as it is. Whatever this is he refuses to sully it.

After Matt’s finished shoveling down his food he glances over at Techie with a frown. “What’s bothering you?” He plucks the container and fork from Techie’s lap where he’s been hovering his fork halfway to his mouth for the last two minutes. The container gets tucked into a plastic bag Matt’s had shoved in his pocket and Techie no longer has anything on his person to cling to as a life line.

Techie stares at the concrete biting at his bottom lip. He chances a glance up at Matt whose brow has creased in concern. “I – um, broke my phone and Hux is going to kill me,” he murmurs presenting the cracked screen to Matt. It’s not really what’s on his mind and Hux will be annoyed but it’s the only excuse he has that’s close and far enough from the truth.

For a few moments Matt holds Techie’s hand in his closed around both the phone and his fingers before plucking the device away to examine it. “Screen just seems busted – easy fix,” he places it back in Techie’s palm with a sliver of a grin. “Come on,” he helps hoist Techie to his feet before motioning him to follow, “we’ll pick up a new screen and I can fix it for tomorrow.”

They fall easily into step.

 

Techie spends far too long staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint tune of music coming through the wall separating his and Matt’s room. He curls up on his side, knees to chest, hand rested on the wall. The music isn’t loud enough for him to feel the vibrations for once. Other sounds mix in though they’re muted in comparison like Matt’s watching a movie on his tri-screens.

There’s really nothing stopping him from sneaking out into the hall and knocking on Matt’s door. Hux and Kylo had gone to bed a half hour earlier. It’s not like he’d get caught.

Sleep won’t come to him like this.

He runs a thumb over his bruised wrist, brushes over a scab where Maratelle’s nail had punctured the skin. The nightmares will be there should he doze off. Hux’s suspicions will only prove fruitful if he asks him to sleep next to him and that will not solve any of this (if only he hadn’t hidden his hands in his pockets like he always used to when she left marks). He has to play her game; it’s the only way to make it end. The card she’d left him sits crushed beneath a bundle of copper coil in one of his desk drawers.

 He can picture her all too clearly in the dark and it forces him to sit up and turn on the light. Eyes drifting over his surroundings which does not bare her presence but he can still _feel_ her like she’s become a film on his skin he’s been unable to scrub off.

Really, it’s the sensation that he’s being watched that has him scurrying for the door. The paranoia follows him all the way into the hall as he tentatively knocks on Matt’s door. He has to wait a minute but Matt calls out for him to come in and he rushes to close the door behind him.

Matt’s sat at his computer, hunched over with his head resting in his hand squinting to read the text he has displayed on one of his screens. He glances over at Techie, eyebrow raised, probably expecting Kylo for all Techie can guess. With a yawn he sits back in his chair and rubs at his eye from beneath his glasses. “What’s up?”

The music is not from a movie but rather the video game Matt has opened on two of three of his screens. The third screen displays a wiki with the current page’s headline displaying: Solas/Approval.

Techie shuffles his feet awkwardly, turning back from the screens to face Matt who is watching him quietly. “Um, can I just hang out here for a bit?”

“Yeah– everything okay?” Matt doesn’t even wait a beat before he’s ushering Techie to sit at the end of the bed.

“I – just don’t want to be alone right now if that’s okay, I won’t get in your way I promise.” Not that Matt appears outwardly bothered by his sudden appearance. He likes to think he knows the man well enough that should it be a problem Matt would voice it.

“It’s not a problem,” he gives a small smile before pausing his game and turning back to Techie. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

Techie shakes his head no. “Keep doing whatever you’re doing, I’ll just watch if that’s okay.” He scoots up the bed into Matt’s nest of pillows and goes to tug one of the blankets over his lap. Except there’s resistance and a little dissatisfied grumble. Two green eyes peer up at him from the other side of the bed. Techie huffs out a little laugh before reaching forward to scratch the top of her head, “Hux is going to murder you if he finds out she’s warming up to you.”

Without turning around Matt shrugs, “she keeps scratching at the door it’s not my fault she likes sleeping in here.”

Millie butts her head against Techie’s forearm as she slinks her way up the bed to force her way into his lap. Luckily for Kylo she seems to prefer to spread her hair all over Matt’s mismatched bedding than Kylo’s black sheets. This certainly explains her scarce appearance. Hux will be positively livid.

The little fairy lights click on as Techie strains to flick the switch with Millie snuggled in on his lap. Matt glances back at him with a fond smile that Techie can’t help but blush at the sight of. Whatever mood Matt had been in all day has faded. He tries not to focus on how the fairy lights reflect in Matt’s glasses, it reminds him too much of the last time he was here and the little butterflies they cause make him turn his face away.

To think Maratelle would take this all away from him in an instant if she could. The shudder is impossible to suppress. He tugs the blanket slowly from beneath Millie to cover his shoulders with it, the room seeming to drop a few degrees at just the thought of her. His attention turns back to the sun beam that is Matt, drinking in enough of him that Maratelle shifts to the back of his mind out of sight but certainly not forgotten.

Techie watches fondly as Matt struggles to stuff his oversized mitten of a hand into the small cylinder of pizza flavoured pringles. After a minute he tips the container back directly into his mouth spilling crumbs down the front of his shirt. “Fuck,” he mutters brushing them onto the floor and piquing Millicent’s attention who begins to slither out of Techie’s lap.

“No wonder she likes it in here,” Techie laughs as he scoops her up into a bundle in his arms and leans back against the headboard. Matt grunts as he kicks the crumbs further beneath his desk as if Millie might not venture beneath it.

Matt goes back to his game and Techie shuffles back into the pillows content to breathe in the lingering remnants of Matt’s cologne clinging to the fabric. There’s something so calming hearing Matt clicking keys, cursing under his breath, munching on more than likely stale chips. His eyelids start to feel heavy.

If he falls asleep in the middle of the bed and Matt has to crawl over him later in the night to nuzzle up against him there’s no complaint about it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chapter warnings*  
> Physical abuse - Maratelle uses her nails to pierce Techie's skin to keep him in place  
> Mental abuse - Maratelle mocks/puts down Techie in order to try to control him  
> Homophobia - Maratelle mentions that Brendol would be horrified at the thought that Techie is gay (she herself perpetuates this as well)
> 
> If you feel I missed anything please let me know!
> 
> Thank you all as always for reading!! I know it's been eons but I still have big plans for this little guy and I have to nurse him very gently into fruition. Big thanks go to my cheerleaders - Coral, Courtney, and Christine. Without the three of you I may have given up on this a long time ago but I promise I'll finish it... eventually lol.


End file.
